#ezra... light of my life

[jessicas-pi]

y'all got me all hyped to do more merfolk AU art so I finished the Love's Lights scene

[autism-disco]

eat beeakfast and isntamtly no longer as self hatred isnt that wacky. what a revolutionary discovery i have never discovered ona. sunday morning before

[in-this-light-on-this-evening]

You can try and ride and hide

Tearing at the chain

Oh, Lucifer’s inside

[ahhh-soka]

guess who's back....

[kedsandtubesocks]

blood on your name

Cowboy!Ezra x F!Reader

summary: Texas 1885 - the town’s ranching competition brings in new souls out from the desert, one unfortunately happens to be a ghost haunting you & he’s still as handsome and dangerous as ever

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY. MDNI, old Wild West AU, slight enemies to lovers, very morally!gray Ezra, fingering, oral (f receiving), pussy pronouns, one moment of spit kink, allusions to p in v, scoundrel but soft!Ezra, themes of violence & reader enacting violence on another, use of guns, blood & injury, morally!gray reader, time period views of marriage & shaming women (brief use of derogatory terms against reader), minor character deaths, light gender language usage, use of nicknames

word count: 7.2k

a/n: here’s to finally putting my 7th grade tx history lessons to some use plus I’ve been really missing west texas so here we are lol! Fun history fact - Pecos prides itself as the birth place of the rodeo so this competition is the inception of that! It took me a while to get here & this truly wouldn’t be here without @gasolinerainbowpuddles @julesonrecord & @perotovar i can’t thank you babes enough, and to you, if you decide to read this too, thank you so much ♡

The newcomers that blew into town stand around the edge of the fence.

Pecos had become famous for hosting this rope wrangling event, and you’re not surprised it’s brought others in to observe the spectacle. Just last week it seemed like more wagons wandered into the edge of town.

You’ve been living here among the desert’s harsh eyes with your aunt for a few years now. When your mother unleashed her wrath after she found you with an unmarried man who had drifted into town, you fled with the caravan heading out west. So far west it brought you to the Pecos River. You’re thankful your aunt welcomed you with open arms. The desert proved to be a harsh host. But you’ve managed.

The actual event in town wasn’t taking place until the end of the week. Except so many already want to see the cowboys proudly warming up, showing off.

It’s why you even stop on your way home from the tailor shop.

Duke Williams currently tries his hand at practicing. The handsome young star all the way from Austin shows promise while he maneuvers his threadbare rope with ease.

He lands a solid catch against one of the practice sheep running around, and the crowd claps already impressed.

His bright face, angelic almost, brightens when he smiles triumphantly. When he spots you among the on looks, he beams even wider. You smile back politely.

However, Martha, the mayor’s youngest daughter, nudges you.

“I don’t know why you haven’t let that man swoop you up yet?” She giggles with a slight tease however, her words sting.

Duke’s been pursuing you ever since he came into town last spring. He reminds you of a newly built chapel, lovely coated in pristine and full of holy hope.

Yet, you don’t care for him.

You understand you should be married by now. Especially at your age, you’re becoming a dusting antique on the shelf by the town’s whispers. You even understood your mothers anger after discovering the man she caught you with had simply scurried away without another word.

Everyone in town seems to see Duke almost as your god blessed savior on a white horse sent to rescue you from a desolate destitution.

But you don’t hold any sense of attraction towards Duke. Even as you watch how handsome and sturdy he looks, a fierce cowboy among the other competitors, you simply admire his skills. And that’s it.

You wonder if you’re simply destined to the life of a happily secluded cactus like creature.

Something tickles against your skin, a sensation of being hyper aware of being caught in another’s gaze. Living in the desert has brought you a heightened awareness to make sure no critters lurking among can strike you.

So your eyes flicker around and find the crowd still enthralled by the sight of the cowboys.

Until you find one man isn’t.

One of the newcomers.

Sun kissed skin, an absolutely striking hawkish nose, sparse facial hair and then, the deepest dark earth eyes you’ve ever seen stare straight at you. The dusty black cowboy hat he wears casts a strange shadow across his features, cloaking him almost sinister.

Your breath hitches fast like it’s stolen from you.

You know this stranger.

One of the other newcomers nudges against him drawing his attention away from you. But your face stays stuck on him.

The men discuss with each other low and close, clustered together like a pack of desert weeds sprouting fast.

Except after the mystery outsider relays something back to the group, his eyes flicker back to you.

There’s a simmered wildness to him.

The commotion of spurs clinking comes and so many giggle around you, drawing your attention away.

Duke moves towards you with a shining grin on his face.

A desire to scurry away tugs at you. So with a polite smile, you silently duck away and decide to head home.

“Hey! Why ya leaving so soon?” He calls out. “Did you see me?”

His voice is so bright but also, so slightly arrogant, as if he can maybe keep you from leaving.

“Yes, you were incredible.” You’re truthful in your words.

Thankfully the others all around begin greedily vying for his attention.

As you turn to head home, that strange itch crawls over you again. Someone’s watching you.

So glancing around you think it must be Duke, but his attention is preoccupied.

However, it’s the handsome black cowboy hat stranger who again blatantly stares so direct at you.

A moment passes of you simply staring back at him.

However you break the contact first, needing to head home. But the entire way you sense his eyes blazing a hole on your back.

By the time you hit the edge of town towards your aunt’s cabin, the day creeps into early evening.

Above, vultures circle around high. However… there isn’t any sign of decay nearby.

- ☾𖤓 -

Your walk towards the tailor shop passes by the large stretch of land where the cowboys practice. Duke cries out your name excited. Politely you turn to greet him good morning only to find he’s not alone.

Other cowboys of course have come to wrestle in their skills. One of them surprises you.

The man you saw a few days ago is here.

His deep midnight eyes flicker to you immediately. That handsome face of his stays entirely composed.

Duke rattles on about his day. Yet you pay no attention as the new cowboy has stolen all your focus. The black cowboy hat he wears is dusty, weathered, and for some reason, you feel as if it both does and doesn’t suit him.

Duke chirps out your name again. Apologizing, you blame your dazed attention on lack of sleep.

Your night has been restless

“Hope ol’ lady Julie isn’t working y’too hard at the tailor shop.” He grins boyish and charming.

“Oh, Duke.” A smooth twang of a voice floats out. Waltzing in besides the cowboy, the newcomer arrives.

“You didn’t tell me your bird was so lovely.” His voice is curled with a smile and his voice, a deep drawl, draws an acidic venom in your mouth.

“I’m not his bird.” You politely reply.

“Not yet.” Duke adds warm, shy. But that only causes your stomach to squirm even more.

“Name’s Ezra, dear honeysuckle.” The newcomer introduces himself with a tip of his hat.

You nod back quietly giving him your name.

“Ezra came for the competition, traveled all this way just to try his hand at it!” Duke, ever the competitor, explains excited for the new competition.

Your eyes unfortunately stay on the newcomer rider.

Compared to Duke, Ezra’s frame is lithe. Then again, Duke with his incredibly tall stature is built like a terrifying boulder. Ezra’s broad shoulders and his striking sleek build makes you think of a river, fluid yet quietly powerful.

As unfortunately handsome as he is, his frame does not seem like a cowboy’s build.

Instead he reminds you of the traveling con man you once knew.

Duke continues rattling on and on about how proud he is to show off the town and this event.

You however hate the way Ezra’s eyes still on you make your skin tighten.

Excusing yourself with a soft nod, wishing them both well, you return on your way to the seamstress. Your body burns the entire way.

The day goes by slowly at the shop. After working on a few ruined blouses, Julie, the elderly shop owner, keeps you busy with tidying up. When the sun starts setting, the door clings open, and you wonder who’s coming in so late.

Ezra saunters in, and your throat tightens.

“Welcome in, newcomer!” Julie greets with a grandmotherly grace. “What can we do for you, good sir?”

Ezra smiles with all the charm of a gilded cactus.

“Seems I am in need of a new stitch for these gloves of mine.” Ezra explains pulling out worn gloves.

Leather frayed along the straps speak of the weathered and worn attention they’ve been given. But they seem too big for his hands. You even swear you’ve seen them before on his old business partner. But you don’t want to think too much on it.

Good dear sweet Julie chatters with the man. You simply stay quiet, not even turning to greet or address him.

You don’t even work on his gloves, deciding to let Julie handle them.

You even hide out in the back room, not even listening to when Ezra leaves.

Julie ends up heading home, and you’re left to close up. The sun sets a dusty fading apricot against the shadow of the tailor shop.

As you pass by the alleyway, suddenly you’re handed into the dark shadows. You’re about to scream, maybe even yelp, until a hand goes flying across your face, silencing you.

“Now now, pidge, don’t need you making too much of a holler.” Ezra.

Anger seethes in you, boiling. Violently and with a harsh yank, you tear yourself away from his grasp. You’re almost tempted to storm away.

“Didn’t think I’d ever be graced by your beauty again. That mother of yours still got that shotgun she threatened me with?” He smoothly asks with the amount of dangerous charm a rattlesnake would carry.

“What? This your last attempt at selling that watered down snake oil you call elixirs and tonics?” You snap back razor sharp.

When you first met Ezra, which now feels like lifetimes ago, he was a smooth talking traveling salesman. A drifter, as your mother so harshly called him.

Instead of the cowboy hat he wears now, he looked more stately in his bowler type cap.

He charmed so many of the women in town, trying to sell them the secrets to youth, vitality, beauty, and anything else he could promise in his elixir vials. You however, were not interested, saw right through his ruse.

Though, you realize now you were just as foolish as the others in town rapidly buying his lies. Because you had been just as charmed and fooled as they were.

This man, who’s sharp wit intrigued you, who spoke to you as an equal, became so dangerous because you were willing to give him everything.

Your heart, your body - all of you should have been reserved for your husband. Instead you freely gave everything to this thief.

The swindler swore he would take you with him, make you his wife. But when your mother’s fury came, he fled like a petrified jackrabbit.

You suppose he is more coyote than jackrabbit, greedily stealing anything he can then sneakily moving on.

Ezra’s composed grin on his face flickers, like all the history resting between you and him resurfaces within him.

“Didn’t you hear, pidgeon? My elixirs were plundered. Even my poor partner, god rest his dear soul, was shot down in cold blood!” Ezra explains with sorrow.

You had heard about that. At the edge of town, on the dirt road leading out into the hills, one of the sheriff’s found the large carriage and Ezra’s associate dead. The carriage crashed, run off the road. The damage screamed of the work of bandits. However, Ezra was nowhere to be found.

“I’m just supposed to believe you miraculously made it out of there alive?” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

You don’t want to say it, but your instincts twist dangerously in your stomach. You wonder if Ezra did the deed himself, killed his partner and took the valuables.

Ezra shrugs sheepishly.

“That’s the way the desert works, honeysuckle. It’s a harsh landscape that only protects those who can survive its wrath.”

You forgot how much he spoke like a preacher sometimes, so elevated and otherworldly. You hate how badly your heart races just being this close to him again, hearing his voice again.

“So you’re telling me you came all the way here just to try your hand at the competition? Never even seen you ride, much less thrown a rope. Can’t imagine a con-man like you being a cowboy.” You reply skeptical.

He barks a laugh. “You'd be surprised. I’m a man composed of many unrevealed talents.”

You knew that very well.

Cautiously, treading like he’s approaching a mountain lion, Ezra steps closer to you. Out of instinct you step backwards closer to the other shop beside the tailors.

“Now don’t tell me you’re pondering the idea of telling everyone about my past life, pidge?” His voice is low, calm but brewing like an approaching storm.

“Because it pains me just imagining the repercussions that could arise if ya did.” He mutters, and your throat gets tight.

There's an underlying threat below his words.

Fiercely, stubbornly, you glare at him, refusing to speak. But you know you won’t say anything. He must know it too. You’ve left your past far back at home. And you don’t want him reviving your ghosts either.

Suddenly the back of Ezra’s hand gingerly, barely touching your skin, grazes against your cheek. He whispers out your name.

“The years out here have made you bloom, like a beautiful desert petal.” He mumbles with hazed eyes.

Out of spite you snap your face away and scowl even harder at him.

“I have to get home.” You snap angrily, managing to finally remove yourself from him.

“The motel houses me for the time being,” he declares from behind in the shadows.

“Unless that blonde Galahad cowboy of yours is keeping your bed warm now?” Ezra adds almost amused.

Rage bursts a furious fire in you, and it consumes you in its heated path.

“Rot in hell.” You snarl whipping back to him.

“As long as you keep me company, beautiful.” Ezra replies coy.

You’re about to curse his soul when he stomps towards you, fast and steady. His hand flings to your face, pulls you back to the shadow of the tailor shop.

He kisses you with the fierce intensity of a sudden dust storm. It even shakes your soul, spins you around, as if you were caught in an actual twister.

He tastes like the faint hints of a cigar, but something still so deliciously sinful and him. Your knees want to buckle when he easily slips his tongue inside and immediately coaxes his against yours.

You whimper, don’t even realize he’s maneuvered you to the wall of the shop, until your back gently hits the cool wood building.

It’s like your body is imprinted to his, completely answering his call, willingly and wanting to be closer to him while your hands clutch at his broad shoulders.

His body pins you firm against the building, and already he grinds his hips into you.

Then the laughter nearby bursts the bubble, snaps your attention clear.

You scramble and rapidly shove Ezra away. You don’t say another word and simply walk away.

However your lips continue to sting, as if bitten by a bee. Your hands ache empty like they’re missing the presence of his body in their grasp.

You can’t fall for this trap again.

But by the time you arrive back home, greet your aunt warmly, the lie spills from your lips before you can stop it.

“Julie wants to start the inventory sooner. So I’ll be heading back and staying over at the shop.”

Your aunt doesn’t question you, simply grins sweet and wishes you a safe trip back to town.

The sun barely sets in for the night over the horizon. The sky is a dusty blue, the softest color before bleeding into a dark midnight. The desert at night is another creature entirely. Even as you walk into town, you try to stay aware and low from any curious eyes.

The motel approaches fast. The caretaker gives you a curious look but before he can, he’s called away.

Ezra already waits for you at the top of the stairs, hidden in the shadows but still so distinct among them.

He doesn’t tease you, doesn’t even greet you. His presence seems so different with how intense he stares at you. Simply moving to intertwine his hand with yours, he guides you to his room. Inside it’s like the world melts away. It’s only you and him.

He devours you, ravenous, like trying to both make up for lost time and also feel like not a day has passed. Your hands run through his hair, knock off his cowboy hat.

You hate how badly you’ve missed this, missed him. He’s the only man your body has known, and the nights you’ve ached for him your fingers never did him justice.

When you’re bare among his bed, and his fingers slide into your wet core, you whine against his lips.

“This cunt still mine, pretty girl?” He asks mutter.

You wearily nod then all thoughts shatter when he rubs against that certain spot you can never reach. Your body crashes in a climax so shakily fast you have to catch your breath against him.

Ezra kisses the top of your head over and over.

“That’s my sweet peach,” he says in awe.

You greedily now pull him towards you, aching even more for him to be inside.

But he’s not finished with you. Ezra greed swallows your sigh before his lips move down your bare body to your core and kisses you with reverent devotion.

Your body melts into the sheets feeling his tongue trace paths among your wet cunt.

Ezra firmly calls your name. It sounds like your soul is being brought back. Wearily you sit up to see him peering up at you between your legs. Slowly he lifts himself away from your cunt, his face glistening with your arousal.

Those obsidian eyes of his blazing in the candlelight lock you in their gaze. Keeping eye contact with you he suddenly spits down to your wet aching sex, and your mind spins.

It’s obscene, you should be disgusted and horrified. You even wonder if you’ve been transported to the brothel a few ways down the road. But it feels absolutely divine especially when he does it again.

“Oh she likes this.” Ezra coo’s then presses ever the softest kiss against your soaked throbbing pearl. “This pretty little cunt, my lovely lady, ache for me huh?”

You don’t argue with him. You don’t want to. He makes you come again and a creature raw and hungry awakens in you. You claw at him, now needing him inside.

It’s like a piece of yourself returns when Ezra slides into you. It’s hot, heavy, frantic but feels sacred.

Ezra must sense it too, because he doesn’t last long. When he spills over your tummy, his hands become claws and keep you caged in his grasp. Your con artist kisses every inch of you he can.

Sweaty and tangled in him, you still feel a tinge of sadness creep in.

“You left me.” You whimper against his lips.

“And it will haunt me until my dying breath.” Ezra sighs back, his voice weighing heavy. “I was planning to come back for you, my bird. But your mother…”

She had put a bounty out on your drifter, managed to get the sheriff on her side. You knew even in your anger at Ezra leaving, it was smart of him to escape.

His hand cradles your face, and his thumb strokes your cheekbone. Those endless eyes shimmer in the low light.

“But I’m here now, pidge.” Sincerity radiates from him.

You’re now able to bask in his beauty - his gorgeous jaw, his beautiful nose, the striking streak of blonde hair that has been hidden under his hat and you’ve been dying to see.

You nuzzle your face into his palm.

“What are you doing here? Truly?” You ask.

“I told you,” Ezra says, drawing your face towards him to kiss you tender again. “I’m here to try and prove myself victorious.”

You’re not sure you believe his words.

But you end up staying with him. Early morning, before the sun reaches over the desert, his fingers trace your face waking you up.

“Dawn bathes you in her glory.” He mutters. Embarrassed at his words you burrow your face into the pillow.

He doesn’t chase you, but instead lets his fingers draw aimless shapes against your shoulder.

“There wasn’t a day where you did not occupy my mind, even after all these years.” Ezra admits low, as if he didn’t realize those words escaped him.

Slowly you turn towards him and discover those deep eyes hazed over staring at you.

“I hate you.” You tell him without any malice. In fact an emotion something very opposite of hatred soaks your words.

“I know. I’d hate me too.” Ezra agrees muttering then leans down to kiss you gingerly.

You have to leave before the town wakes up, and to seal your alibi.

With a final kiss goodbye, you head to the tailor shop.

Julie finds you in the shop when she arrives and applauds you for your diligence and wanting to get a jump start on inventory. You’re thankful the lie worked out this way. You even manage to convince her to let you finish inventory the rest of the week. Of course she happily agrees.

Ezra drops by to pick up his riding gloves and winks at you shamelessly. You roll your eyes but hate how badly you fight against a grin.

The next few days are spent between the shop and the motel. You already brace your heart for Ezra’s departure approaching once the tournament is over, but you try not to face that.

“You’ve been in a rather good mood.” Your aunt notices when you stop by to drop off goods for her.

“Thought you hated inventory.” She comments.

“Guess not.” You reply with a shrug.

This blissful cloud you’re walking in however does cloud your mind. It makes you sloppy. Instead of taking the longer path to the motel, the one that kept you away from the views of the main road and town, you walk straight into town.

Running right into Duke Williams.

He says your name bright and clear. Dread dawns on you fast.

“Haven’t seen you ‘round. Heard Julie’s got ya working extra hard.” Duke smiles.

You hate this small town and the small whispers that spread like wildfire.

You reassure Duke you’re fine and are even glad you can help Julie.

All his friends, in their sleek cowboy hats, and dusty spurs, stand off to the side snicker. They crowd around each other like an ominous pack of wolves.

One of them even calls your name.

“Might wanna enjoy this freedom while it last!” He proclaims, and your stomach twists.

The other guys snickers, shushing him playfull, and even Duke turns around to reprimand him.

“What does he mean by that?” You cautiously question.

Duke simply waves the conversation off instead offering to walk you to the tailors.

You politely decline.

“Aw come on, sweet thing like you shouldn’t be walking alone at night.” Duke smiles but even with his sweet eyes you’re reminded of a crocodile now.

“Well gentleman, that’s why i’ll accompany this lovely bird to her destination.” Emerging from the shadows Ezra grins warm.

He must have come to find you after you hadn’t shown up at the motel.

The men including Duke go eerily silent. Ezra is older than Duke and the younger men. So he holds seniority now. But besides that, Duke now seems wary, and you don’t blame him. Ezra is a man that radiates a sort of unpredictable energy.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk ya back now?” You almost appreciate the slight genuine worry leaking into Duke’s voice. But shaking your head you move to walk with Ezra by your side.

You do hate how all eyes are on you, even walking away from Duke and his mindless followers.

“Just remain calm.” Ezra mutters.

You do especially with him by your side. By the time you open the tailors you thank Ezra, worried Duke and his men are still watching.

You whisper for him to meet you behind the shop, and he does. Your swindler willingly steps into the back room with you.

“Not my ideal choice for our evening, but I do love a good change of scenery.” Ezra comments amused browsing around the storage. Playfully, you throw a ball of yarn at him.

You’re surprised he even helps you with the small bit of inventory you do.

“That young buck…” until his voice comes out low. “He’s fond of you.”

“Unfortunately.” You reply back unamused.

“Earlier at the saloon…he was boasting.” Ezra continues with the same serious tone.

“About enjoying the last days of being an unmarried man.”

That causes you to pause.

“Must mean he’s gotten over me.” You sigh, thank goodness.

“No pidge…” Ezra stops to turn towards you. “He was proclaiming how you were to be his bride.”

Your stomach drops.

You think of the way the boys just now snickered almost knowingly, and that strange comment one of themselves said -

All of it makes your stomach sick, and you have to sit down.

No. There was just no way.

“I’d never accept his proposal.” You snap out hating how badly your body feels frantic, almost skittish like a cornered road runner.

Ezra kneels before you rubbing your hand with his, a strange solid comfort.

Eventually he gathers you into his arms and calms you with soothing soft words.

“We’ll figure out a solution.”

You still don’t know if you can trust his words. But that's all you have. Your drifter stays with you overnight in the tailor shop. You even feel sinful fucking him in the back room but it’s deliciously sinfull all the same.

Sitting and resting against the work desk you fade in and out of sleep. Tender fingers brush against your fingers, ghost like. Ezra is gone by the time you wake up and Julie’s entering the shop jolts you awake.

Her eyes are frazzled.

“Did you hear? Mister Johnston’s eldest son was shot down early this morning.”

You hadn’t heard. Dread fills you fast when you realize Johnston's boy was the one who had made the joking comment to you last night.

There’s talk about postponing the competition. But others in town, especially Duke, argue to continue the tradition in a way to honor the fallen young man.

An ominous terror looms in you.

Later that night, you return to the motel. Too many thoughts swarm in your head, and Ezra even seems distant. He even slides his duster jacket one before kissing you.

“I have some personal matters to attend to, pidge. Get some respite here.”

His boots echo down the hall and then down the stairs.

You can’t sleep. So you move to slide open the window and let some of the night air in.

The faint mutter of discussion very close outside in the alleyway floats into the room.

It’s muffled at first, but once you step closer and concentrate, you pick up the very familiar cadence of a certain drifter.

“No no, I have it covered. As long as you make sure to double the bets on me tomorrow.” Ezra explains in a hush.

The others with him explain the different amounts they’ve collected, and it hits you.

He’s gambling on the competition.

That’s why he’s here.

You knew the men at the saloon often bet, but this feels heavier.

A new clicking of spurs arrives.

“Y’know, you fellas look like a dangerous bunch all here hidden in the shadows.” Duke.

Panic prickles all over your body.

“Now young buck, we’re just here partaking in a fun and friendly wager.” Ezra with his smooth talking skills deflates the tension easily.

“Waggerin’ on what?” You’re surprised Duke immediately quickly jumps in to gamble.

Ezra and the other men begin conspiring on how to make sure Duke wins to favor the odds of their bets.

“I like the sound of that.” Duke grins.

He makes a hefty wager on himself to win, the price even makes someone whistle.

They offer to place their wagers on him as well and with Ezra even in the competition, he’s argued to be an even better reassurance that the outcome falls in their favor.

Ezra even swears by this.

They’re fixing the match, going to cheat. You don’t know how to feel about any of this.

They end their discussion, and you quietly slide back into bed. Before long Ezra returns, the smell of tobacco and the cold air lingers in the room.

His fingers dance against your shoulders while your back stays to him.

“You’re only here… to make money, and cheat.” You mutter hollow.

His fingers stop.

“You overheard.”

You don’t reply to him. Ezra sighs.

“Indeed I am. But I’m no different than the gentlemen that place simple wagers on a game of horseshoe.” He explains low, under the whisper of the candle flicker.

“But it’s like you’re wanting to play with a weighted or lighter horseshoe.” You argue back.

“Is it not in our best natures to make sure Lady Luck favors us by any means possible?”

You don’t know how to reply to him.

“…I’m doing this for you, for us.” He adds.

You turn to him, your face scrunching up in fury.

“Bullshit.” You tell him.

“Believe me a liar, but I’m honest in my endeavor.” His face becomes a firm steeled frown.

You can’t look at him anymore, turning your back again to Erza in bed.

“My hope was to gain enough funds to pay for the bounty your mother placed on me, return for your hand, and make our way into a new life together.” His voice is steady.

“Unless you wish to stay here and wed that Duke.” He offers.

You whip back to glare harsh at Ezra.

There’s a silence heavy and ancient like the desert that settles between you. But it doesn’t last long before Ezra leans down and sweeps in to capture your lips

The discussion dies immediately as passion burns in its place.

You don’t think of gambling cowboys, or of your mysterious drifter, only of the moment consuming you now, and you almost pray you never leave it.

- ☾𖤓 -

Late in the night, wearily half sleep, the bed shifting jolts you awake, and you even hear the door creak open. Before you can ask Ezra if he’s alright, your eyes so sleepy flutter close for a moment. Then he’s sliding back into the warmth pulling you close into his arms. You fall right back to your dreams.

In the early hours of the morning, Ezra kisses your jaw.

“My lucky charm, are you going to observe our tournament today?” He mutters.

The competition was today.

“You nervous?” You had never seen him ride much less try ranch hand work.

“Never.” He says smoothly.

Eventually he slides out of bed and lets you get ready. But soon Ezra walks over and places something in your hands.

The pistol weighs heavy, cold. And your eyes snap open wide now fully awake.

“Why-”

He cuts you off gently. “You know how to fire, yes?”

You nod weakly.

A small smirk tugs at his handsome lips. “Figured as much, after seeing your mother.”

It’s an attempt to tease, but too much terror bubbles in you.

“I just need to know you’re protected.” Ezra reveals, but with a croak you ask why.

“Cause unfortunate as it might be, it’s even more dangerous for a criminal like me to cherish something.”

Your eyes water. There are too many questions in your head, but the day will be starting soon. You need to leave before you’re spotted.

“Tell me you have another gun.” You snap at him.

Ezra simply taps the side of his head. “Don’t need another firearm when I have this weapon.”

You angrily throw the pistol down back to the bed, refusing to take it. That’s when he snaps your name, hard and serious.

You’ve never heard his voice raise like that.

“Take it.” He grabs the firearm and hands it back to you. His midnight eyes are ominously serious with no room for argument.

His hand grabs your face firm in his hand. Your eyes search his endless midnight lake eyes.

“I call you pidge, my little pigeon bird. But I’ve known right from the start you’re a fierce creature. Don’t ever forget that.”

Ezra’s words are beautiful but barbed. They rip up tracks in your heart. He kisses you quick, fierce and short. You hate how it feels like a goodbye.

With shaking hands and confusion, you slide the gun into your satchel. You walk back to your aunt's cabin in a daze. So much so that you barely notice she’s already awake when you sneak back in.

“You have fun at the motel again?” She asks, and fear freezes you.

“I wasn’t-”

“Mac, your uncle’s good friend, gave me the heads up.” She cuts you off softly.

Mac, the innkeeper. God damn this small town. Venom, anger, indignation, they all swirl violently in you.

“Whatever you’re doing there, you’re only gonna find danger.” She says somber, and you stay quiet.

Your aunt sighs.

“You’re lucky this hasn’t gotten out yet. What would young Duke say if he found out?”

Frustration bursts in you, and you snap furious about why would you even need to care about that man’s opinion of you.

“Because he plans on weddin’ you, and I plan on letting him.” Your aunt fires back and her words shoot right through you.

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out, even have to steady yourself against the nearby chair.

You thought your aunt understood. She’s been alone, a widow since she was around your age, longer than your mother had been a widow. You thought she’d never fall into the trap of forcing marriage.

“It’s for your own good.” She argues, watery urgent m. “You need protection, a home, a husband to provide for you.”

You rush out of the house even ignoring the screams from your aunt.

You’d have to think of a plan fast. Maybe leave with Ezra once the competition ends today. It’s all too much. You swallow back a sob and walk back into town.

The competition was today after all.

The day at the shop is very short. Julie doesn’t even notice your somber atmosphere as she’s completely caught up in the excitement of this day. So many more wagons stretch around the edge of town.

Pecos flutters alive with life.

But there’s already commotion, a dangerous kind that chokes the competition tense.

Duke yells loud and furious. The sheriff along with his deputies are nearby. Thankfully you spot Martha and quickly move to ask her what’s going on.

“Duke’s horse is missing.” She whispers.

From what Martha says, when Duke went to the stables this morning the gate was open and his horse was nowhere to be seen. His trusty companion, you even knew how serious an issue this is.

“Well young buck, if you’re that upset then maybe you shouldn’t partake in the festivities.” Ezra, out of thin air, offers.

He looks confident as he strolls up.

“Or you simply ride with another mare?” He proposes with a coy optimism.

“Fuck you!” Duke snaps at Ezra and even looks as if he’s going to lunge.

Your heart hammers hard in your chest. Thankfully the sheriff settles the commotion down.

Angered but stubborn, Duke declares he’s staying to compete and will simply use another horse. He is favored to win after all.

Other cowboys from out of town have blown in like packs of tumbleweed. So many of them are excited to participate and try their hand at showing off their rancher skills

Some are good.

But it is Ezra who proves to be the dark horse, the surprise underdog.

Watching him on his stallion, your throat goes dry seeing how effortless and strong he manages his horse. You never knew he could ride. The way he maneuvers and stays a quiet presence, he reminds you of an outlaw.

“Moves like a bandit.” Someone in the crowd even whispers.

His rope throwing skills however surprise everyone, including yourself. The calf he manages to wrangle takes you by shock. A dangerous lust slithers over your body watching him wrangle the animal with his strength and sturdy form.

But you realize -

This wasn’t what had been planned. From the discussion given last night, Ezra was meant to perform poorly to make sure Duke did better.

But this is exactly the opposite.

He’s the lead runner for champion of the competition.

And then Duke’s turn arrives. The crowd mummers curious, on edge waiting for the favored cowboy to make his move.

The horse he uses is not cooperative. Duke screams, unable to hide his frustration in wrangling the creature.

But once he stabilizes a manageable ride, he goes to lasso the calf. His rope lands and the crowd cheers. He’s already faster than Ezra.

Until the frayed rope snaps and the calf yanks itself free.

The crowd gasps.

It’s not an immediate disqualification, but it doesn’t look good. Duke argues that his rope was frayed and that someone must have slowly started cutting at it. However it’s a long shot argument. There’s no way to prove that and even the sheriff seems a little wary of the accusation.

“That’s just the way rope is son, you just gotta keep an eye on it.”

Duke screams in anguish canyon splitting anger. You’ve never once seen him like this. It’s like it’s a whole new man, or maybe, his true self being revealed.

He’s offered another rope, but it’s almost horrifying to watch that one as well snap. The crowd again gasps.

This wasn’t the outcome meant to happen.

“Duke’s cursed.” Someone mumbles.

The crowd is in disbelief, you even are. The last remaining competitors try their luck, but none can beat Ezra’s speed.

You can’t believe it. But he won.

And Duke is livid. The crowd tentatively applauds Ezra’s win because of the somber mood clashing.

“You bastard! You goddamn cheated!” Duke screams at Ezra while the deputies try settling him down.

“Poor boy,” Ezra says sympathetically before turning to find you in the crowd.

There’s a gleam of something proud shimmering in his dark eyes.

You don’t question it, don’t want to.

Ezra truly is a man of many facets, dangerous ones, like looking at a raw gemstone that could cut your fingers.

The competition spills into the nearby saloons, and the festivities only seem to intensify as the sun starts setting. You can’t even reach Ezra from the groups swirling around him and want to get as far away from Duke as possible.

So you return back to the tailor shop. Julie urges you to join her and the other women at the mayor’s large property, but you decline.

You simply sit in the store trying to muster up a plan. But in a blink, the night arrives and you have to find Ezra.

So after locking up the shop, you head to the motel.

Until the sound of Duke’s screaming and the rage of violence roars nearby.

You freeze, terrified.

Until someone wearily coughs. “That’s what ya get for gamblin’ with bandits, boy.”

Your swindler’s distinct twang drawls smug and now your body rushes to the secluded alleyway.

You swallow back a scream at the sight you stumble upon. Duke with blood fists has Ezra pinned against the wall, like a mythological creature, terrifying and large looking over with violence in his wake.

Ezra’s face is bloody and one of his arms even hangs limp.

“Pidge.” He coughs, and your heart aches.

Duke whips around to see you and barks for you to leave.

Shakily you snatch down to your bag, and whip out the gun to point it to him. Duke’s face falls a bit confused.

“Honey this man wronged me, I’m only enacting my justice.” He argues.

You snap at him to let Ezra go or else.

That’s when a sinister evil darkens Duke’s golden boy face.

“So, ya little god damn whore…you’re workin’ with this man aren’t ya? I knew I should’ve listened to all the rumors about a slut like you.” He spits with venom leaking from his voice.

“Don’t you touch her.” Ezra snarls, but Duke pays him no mind keeping his sinister eyes on you.

“What?” Duke slowly mutters. “Do ya really think you’re gonna shoot me?”

Tears fill your eyes. You don’t want to, but the way your heart races like a terrified Jack rabbit it screams at you to flee. But… you also wonder if your heart races because it’s urging you to attack, to bare your fangs.

Instead of releasing Ezra, Duke moves to grip his coat harder. He slams your drifter hard and fast against the wall. A painful crack-like smack comes, and you scream.

You fire the gun instantly.

Duke blinks, you even wonder if you landed a hit.

Until deep dark crimson, almost the color of dark sludge, leaks across Duke’s side. He crumbles like a fall leaf.

You cry scrambling to Ezra who thankfully is still standing. Duke wheezes out obscenities and even tries hollering for help. You’re however too worried about Ezra.

“M’fine,” your drifter reassures with a wheeze.

“Hand me the gun, dearest.” Ezra somberly mutters. When you do, without hesitation Ezra fires the gun point black down at Duke. And your eyes shut hearing the pistol strike. Duke goes quiet and stays silent.

“Come on, we gotta hurry.” Ezra urges.

Supporting his body, you manage to get him into the tailor shop to tend to his wounds.

Ezra coughs out your name. “M’dearest, I need to make my escape out of town once more.” His breathing his heaved, he needs to rest.

“Don’t leave me.” You cry sharp, unable to focus on anything now.

His hand slides to your face and he cradles you tenderly. You clutch at his wrist as you blink back tears starting at him now.

“It will not be a pleasant life, staying with a devil like me.” He mumbles.

Doesn't he realize, you’re just as tarnished as him now? Blood is on your hands. You simply turn to kiss the palm of his hand feeling more reassured than ever.

“I’d rather be with the devil than live without him.” You speak soft into his skin while tears dry on your cheeks.

He barks a hollow but watery thick laugh as he says your name. “You foolish bird, my lovely dangerous creature.”

The desert is unforgiving to those who do now learn to grow fangs or become just as fierce as its landscape. You wonder if that’s what has become of you. But you don’t question it. You simply gather all you can, steal one of the horses from the saloon and keep Ezra close to you on the saddle.

If Ezra is a devil, then you’re grateful he saved you from your hell. And for him, you will gladly stain your soul.

Under the eternal eyes of the desert, you wander into the night keeping your bandit close to you.

In the distance a lone coyote howls aching at the moon.

You don’t look back once.

[fellthemarvelous]

The Mystery of Chopper Base foreshadowed Ezra's exile.

Ezra's anxieties about Malachor brought him to Zeb. He was headed to a Sith temple with Kanan and Ahsoka, and it was with Zeb that Ezra was able to show his more vulnerable side.

He said it. "I don't know when we'll be back. Or if we'll be back."

And the thing is...the Ezra who came back from Malachor is not the same Ezra.

The new Ezra that came back was traumatized, angry, defeated, grieving, and he blamed himself for just how sideways their mission to Malachor went. This new Ezra started wielding a green lightsaber and came very close to falling to the dark side if Kanan had not been there to pull him back from the edge.

This Ezra came back jaded and vengeful and guilt-ridden after Maul blinded Kanan, and he and Kanan had been forced to leave Ahsoka behind with Vader while the Sith temple collapsed around them.

This Ezra came back with a Maul shaped shadow doing everything possible to make Ezra his new apprentice.

This Ezra survived against Darth Vader for a second time (because someone else was there to save him).

Ezra was already grieving the death of his parents when Malachor happened. Malachor hurt everyone in his family. He brought Kanan back to Hera physically injured and forever changed, and he wasn't able to bring Ahsoka back to Rex at all.

But despite the grief that everyone was experiencing, they persevered. Hera continued on with the mission and Rex spent just as much time pulling Ezra back towards the light as Kanan and Sabine did.

Hera and Kanan's final conversation before Malachor ended up becoming a reality. Kanan regained his vision and was able to look at Hera in his final seconds of life.

Ahsoka and Rex's final conversation was the very first scene in the Twilight of the Apprentice, and it was over Space Facetime. Rex was so nervous about Ahsoka going without him and she had to remind him that she was not alone. Rex is used to mourning his brothers. He's done it thousands of time. He's used to seeing his own face die over and over again. Losing Ahsoka would be different though. She wasn't a clone trooper, but she was still a soldier just like him. She was his best friend, his closest ally, someone he trusted with his life more times than he could care to count. They were each other's sword and shield.

Ezra understands these bonds. It's what his bond with Sabine was becoming.

And all of them (with the exception of Kanan because my boy sacrificed his life to save the people he loved, and Ahsoka because we don't even know when she is, let alone where she is at this point) followed Ezra into battle to take Lothal back from the Empire. They freed Lothal from the grip of Darth Sidious, but Ezra didn't get to see it happen. He was somehow surviving a long ass trip through hyperspace with space whales and a very pissed off Grand Admiral Thrawn.

He spends ten years in exile, alone, on another planet in a distant galaxy with a ship full of stranded Imperials nearby and always ready to kill him, but he still manages to find a new family, traveling with them and protecting them, grieving his loss and becoming more attuned to the Force.

The Ezra that Sabine finds is so much like the Ezra that she first met on Lothal. He doesn't seem to be carrying a heavy burden, but he knows he needs to get back home because Thrawn is a Big Problem, and he's had ten years learning how to outsmart the Imperials and the Nightmothers.

He's returning home with a lightsaber that matches Kanan's and he's about to meet Kanan's son Jacen for the first time.

The empire is toppled now but he and Zeb will have plenty of war stories to trade when they see each other again, especially as the threat of the Empire's return is rising again.

[missladym1981]

Ok let’s try this again shall we? Marcus Pike kept getting cut out of my damn photo but I finally got him to stay . Again, sorry. Here once again is the damn ledger.

Top row from left to right

1. King Lear- Edmund

2. Lobby Hero- Jeff

3. Much Ado About Nothing- Don John

4. Maple and Vine - Roger

5. Sand- Ahmed

6. Hamlet- Horatio

7. Trolius and Cressida- Thersites

8. Lorenzaccio-Piero Strozzi

9. Orphans - Phillip

10. Graceland - Juan Badillo

11. Nikita- Liam

12. Red Window- Jay Castillo

13. The Sixth Gun- Special Agent Ortega

14. CSI - Kyle Hartley

15. Old Comedy from Aristophanes Frogs- Diony

16. Body of Proof - Zach Goffman

Second row Left to Right

17. The Mentalist - Marcus Pike

18. Burn Notice : the fall of Sam Ace- Comendante Veracruz

19. Wonder Woman - Ed Indelicato

20. Law and Order SVU- Special Agent Greer

21. Charlie’s Angels- Fredrick Mercer

22. Brothers and Sisters - Zach Wellison

23. Lights Out- Assyrian

24. The Good Wife - Nathan Landry

25. Law and Order- Tito Cabassa

26. Without a Trace- Kyle Wilson

27. Law and Order CI- Reggie Luckman

28. NYPD Blue- Shane “ Dio “ Morrisey

29. Touched by an Angel - Ricky Hauck

30. undressed- Greg

31. Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Eddie

‘Third row Left to Right

32. TWMT- Javi Gutierrez

33. If Beal Street Could Talk- Pietro Alvarez

34. The Great Wall - Pedro Tovar

35. We Can Be Heros - Marcus Moreno

36. WW84- Maxwell Lord

37. Bloodsucking Bastards- Max Phillips

38. Kingsman : The Golden Circle- Agent Whiskey

39. The Equalizer- Dave York

40. Prospect- Ezra

41. Triple Frontier- Frankie Morales

‘Row 4 left to right

42. The Bubble- Dieter Bravo

43. House Comes With A Bird - Nico

44. Strange Way of Life- Silva

45. Freaky Tales- Clint

46. Drive-Away Dolls- Santos

47. The Uninvited- Lucien Flores

48. The Mandalorian - Din Djarin

49.Game of Thrones- Oberyn Mother Fuckin Martell

Final row of epicnessssssss left to right

50. The Materialist- TBA

51. Narcos- Javier Peña

52. The Last of Us- Joel Miller

53. Gladiator ll- General Marcus Acacius

54. Merge Mansion- Tim Rockford

55. SNL- Mr. Ben

56. Fantastic Four- Reed Richards

57. The Wild Robot- Fink

58. Housebroken- Claude

Sorry again for the fuck up. Sometimes shit happens but they are fixed now. Thank you have a good night

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 42

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy Folks,

guess who's back! I don't know if I'm back to doing these consistently, but I have a hell of a list for y'all. Tags and summaries provided by the author, commentary provided by yours truly.

Mindfuck - Dave one shot by @whatsnewalycat

He said he could rattle the bees from your buzzing honeycomb brain. All you had to do was trust him with this power. So you did. And you do. Your valiant beekeeper meets you at this hotel every other Tuesday night, except on holidays.

Hypnotism, hypnosis-kink, Imperfect Praxis of Hypnosis, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Praise Kink, Smut, unprotected piv, D/s dynamic, Dom Dave, Mindfuck

One of the weirdest things I've ever read, but also one of the best. I was super into this. Mindfucking is WILD.... I'd read more of this universe in a heartbeat

Bittersweet Love - Dieter one shot by @ozarkthedog

Dieter is in recovery from drug addiction, the disease that cost him you. This is his first premiere after getting clean and his first one without you.

angst but with a happy ending! mentions of drug use and alcohol but nothing graphic.

This is such a sweet fic? That might be a weird way to describe it. I just love Dieter getting his shit together and all the good coming his way because of it.

Starlet - Dieter one shot by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Your husband has a big movie premiere, sure he looks great, but his co-star looks even better.

PWP, threesome, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), lesbian fun, unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, addiction talk, sober Dieter, Kit Kats, I wrote this for the bi girls.

This fic is a dream, seriously. I want a hot movie star husband to bring pretty movie star women into my bed please and thank you.

Pas de Deux - Din series by @burntheedges

When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

modern AU, ballet AU, fluff, angst, flirting, dancing, lots of ballet terms (I’ll define things/link videos/etc. -- see below), misunderstandings, character study, romance, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful), lots of tension, later: smut, kissing, grinding, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, each chapter will have its own tags, Din lifts reader (see note below about reader)

This is one of the few modern Din AUs I've read, as I tend not to like them, but I can't recommend this enough. I was drawn in by the summary and hooked by the first chapter!

Never Let Me Go - Ezra one shot by @yopossum

Loving, reverent domestic smut with sweet, submissive Ezra.

SMUT; no plot that’s it just porn but with FEELINGS; sub!Ezra; established relationship; super duper in love; domestic fluff; comfort; gratuitous pet names; praise kink; body worship; body hair; grinding; breast and nipple play; teasing/edging if you squint; light bondage; riding; PIV; no condom (there’s come y’all); religious language and imagery as literary device; Ezra the human thesaurus; prose gettin purple; making grown men whine and cry; reader is not gendered, has breasts and a vulva/vagina, is described as having puffed nipples and dimpled thighs, can straddle Ezra, but no coloring, size, appearance, age, or ability is otherwise noted; Ezra is an amputee and healed and we love it (no gore or trauma or background re: his arm); but I did write this because I was watching Prospect without actually watching and was inspired by *~*those sounds*~* out of context tho; Beatrice is not reader’s name, just a nerdy Dante reference; I stole this title from Florence Welch; old person on tumblr; is this spacing wack?; not a beta in sight; 18+ only no minors

SUBMISSIVE EZRA!!! I loved this. Such a gorgeous fic.

Stick Buddies - Frankie series by @auteurdelabre

You and Frankie find yourselves in a complicated situation when invited to Benny's wedding for a week in Mexico. Despite your strained friendship, you both pretend to be a couple to save Frankie embarrassment when seeing his recently engaged ex wife. However as you navigate through this charade, old feelings and unresolved issues resurface.

friends to enemies, angst, fake relationship, bickering, there's only one bed, destination weddings, enemies to lovers, jealousy, idiots in love, revealed secrets, mutual pining, smut, HEA, so many fucking tropes.

friends to enemies to lovers??? Sign me the fuck up.

Where You Left Me - Frankie one shot by @chaotic-mystery

You meet Frankie for a date and reminisce about your relationship.

MAJOR character death. No movie AU but fuck Tom. This is overall angst heavy and please take care of yourself. Grief & loss, sadness, memories, I think that’s it? It’s just overall a bittersweet and tragically lovesick story. There’s no physical descriptions of reader other than wearing a black dress at one point and having hair that tickles Frankie’s nose. no y/n used

This shit made me cry in the best way. Please read this.

One of Your Girls - Frankie one shot by @pedropeach

unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk)

Circle Jerk, Sub!Frankie, Bukkake, Facials, Cumplay, Cum Swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), Praise Kink, Pet Names, Dirty Talk, oral (m receiving), Deepthroating, Cock Worship, Use of restraints, Sexy Photographs, Sharing, brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf, frankie x all the guys individually, this includes tom but he's not part of the circle jerk, sry tom

Really was not expecting this to be as tender and soft and sweet as it is considering it's one of the more filthy things I've ever read. Absolutely love it.

I'll Carry You - Javi P series by @almostfoxglove

You reunite with your childhood best friend when he arrives home from Colombia. Javier's sudden return to your life exhumes buried heartbreak, but he longs to set things right.

Eventual smut. Reference to canon-typical violence, injury, and the death of a parent. Plenty of alcohol consumption, yearning, and angst. YEARNING!!!

The yearning is exquisite. The fic is exquisite. I'm in love with this fic

Remorse for Remedy - Joel series by @pedgito

Alone, the Miller's brothers seem like your only hope. The outbreak is still fresh, weeks after the fall and all that matters is survival and the unlikely comfort that comes along with a man who wants nothing to do with you.

early outbreak, canon typical violence, morally grey!joel, smut (warnings given with each chapters), exploration of kinks, enemies to lovers, age gap (early 20s/mid 30s), unhealthy coping mechanisms, detailed warning with each chapter

I haven't ever read a series about Joel immediately post outbreak, which is wild. It's always raider!joel or qz!joel or jackson!joel. I love this new perspective and I'm so excited to read more.

Biology - Joel one shot by @endlessthxxghts

Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship.

Well slap me silly and call me an uncle fucker because this fic was amazing. (they're not really related don't. look. at. ME.)

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Joel series by @justagalwhowrites

After the death of his daughter, Joel Miller fell apart. But when searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle and within his own rage doesn't fix it, he resigns himself to working for his brother in private security. It's a job that starts him down the path to stability and a semblance of a life, even if it's not one he particularly wants. At least it does until you show up. The biggest movie star in the world with your newly adopted niece in tow, you throw everything about Joel's life into flux. Is he capable of letting himself feel something again while protecting the only things left in the world that matter?

Protective Joel, Ellie & Joel Bonding, Joel is Bad at Feelings, POV Joel, Joel Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

So pumped for a new Kit fic. Super into bodyguard Joel. The angst right out the gate is so beautifully painful, I just know I'm gonna cry once a chapter at least. (i've only read one chapter, so I have some catching up to do!)

Professor's Pet - Joel one shot by @chaotic-mystery

Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n

I cannot begin to explain how hot him helping her practice is. And then the smut.... I need a shower

Call It What It Is - Joel one shot by @joelsgreys

A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

JACKSON ERA JOEL. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel.

We love overprotective Joel in this house

The Guard Dog - Pero Tovar one shot by @avastrasposts

Sent to your uncle's bleak castle in the north of England, you expect only a dreary existence until you meet his groundskeeper, a scarred, frightening Spaniard. But love in the Victorian era is not easy and life doesn't follow straight paths.

this is mainly all fluff with a bit of angst. Some of that casual racism and predjudice of the period rears its ugly head though. I've tried to keep the reader as blank as possible, but it's Victorian England and she's a lady so I have to presume she doesn't speak Spanish and has fair skin. No use of y/n.

This was so beautiful. I love the setting, I love the characterization, I love the story

Bloody Kisses - Tim Rockford/Dio series by @perotovar

shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

takes place in the early 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, hurtful names (fairy boy, faggot, queer as a slur, etc), a gay porn magazine, lots of references to peter steele of type o negative (and his playgirl issue), male masturbation, acab, angst, protected p in a, fingering, excessive amounts of lube

I started reading this a while ago, but I never added it to the spreadsheet. I'm in love with how soft Tim is with Dio UgH

In the shadows of others, we grow - Tim Rockford/Dave York series by @sin-djarin

What happens when you put two different areas of law enforcement in the same room a few times a year to atone for their 'sins'? You find common ground and figure it out. Together.

M/M, Established D/s dynamics, each chapter contains individual warnings.

This pairing?? Obsessed. The feelings?!?!? Give me 14 more fics in this universe PLEASE

An End to Drought - Javi P one shot by @almostfoxglove

The future of your family's homestead hangs in the balance as Javier Peña comes home in the middle of a drought.

Javier Peña Smut, Soft Javier Peña, Sweet Javier Peña, Javier Peña Has a Big Dick, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Neighbors,Javier might be a god? who knows!, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Creampie, Sex, Vaginal Sex, unprotected piv, Freyr, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Post Season 3

I'm obsessed with the way the challenge was interpreted. Is Javi a god? We don't know... but he sure fucks like one.

Some shit I wrote:

Make it Hurt - Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader - sparring + pain kink

Morning Ride - Logan Howlett x f!reader - soft morning sex

You're So Dark - Dave York x f!reader - prof!Dave x student!Reader

[tashs-stories]

District Baby In The Capitol🔱🩵

Finnick Odair × Fem!OC

Finnick Odair, the Capitol darling, was a name whispered on every lip and adored by countless hearts. To the outside world, he was a vision of charm and allure, a man who had captivated the Capitol with his striking features, effortless charisma, and tragic allure. But behind the carefully constructed facade of his life, there was a secret he guarded fiercely: he was a father.

His daughter, Briar-Sea Odair, was his anchor to a world far removed from the glitz and cruelty of the Capitol. Just two years old, she was a beacon of purity and light in Finnick’s otherwise tumultuous life. She had her mother's crystal blue eyes, framed by lashes so long they looked like they’d been painted on, and a crown of golden blonde hair that shimmered like sunlight. Every time Finnick looked at her, he felt an ache—equal parts joy and sorrow—because he knew his time with her was fleeting.

Her mother, Pearl, had been a Capitol girl born into privilege. Their story wasn’t the fairy tale it appeared to be on the surface. Pearl had once been indifferent to Finnick, seeing him as just another pawn in the games her father played. She was beautiful, sharp-tongued, and stubborn, never one to fall for Finnick’s Capitol persona. But her father, a wealthy Capitol businessman, had paid for Finnick’s company more than once. What started as cold and transactional grew into something warm and undeniable.

Finnick had fallen for her because she was different—someone who saw the cracks in his armor and never looked away. And Pearl, in time, fell for the man beneath the mask: the kind, fiercely protective soul hidden behind the Capitol darling’s smile.

At just 22, Pearl discovered she was pregnant with Briar-Sea. Finnick was overjoyed and terrified. He vowed to protect them, but life in the Capitol was a cage with gilded bars, and Finnick was bound by invisible chains.

---

When Finnick could visit them, those stolen moments felt like a dream. He would cradle Briar-Sea in his arms, pressing soft kisses to her tiny forehead, and whisper, “My little sea star, Daddy loves you so much.” Her giggles were his favorite melody, and every touch, every laugh felt like a lifeline.

Pearl would sit nearby, watching the two of them, her heart torn in two. She loved Finnick and saw how much he adored their daughter, but she also saw the weight he carried—the Capitol’s demands, the fear of exposure, and the pain of being unable to protect the people he loved most.

“Finnick,” Pearl said one evening as Briar-Sea dozed in his arms. They were sitting on her couch in her luxurious Capitol apartment. “We need to talk about the Quell.”

He stiffened, his smile fading as he gazed down at his sleeping daughter. “Not tonight, Pearl,” he whispered.

“Finn,” her voice broke, and he looked up at her. Tears glistened in her blue eyes. “You can’t pretend it isn’t happening. They’re sending you back.”

“I know,” he said hoarsely, his grip on Briar-Sea tightening. “But I can’t—” His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry.

Pearl reached out and cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. “Then we make the most of the time we have,” she said firmly. “I don’t care how much it costs. I’ll pay for you to be here every moment you can. You’re her father, Finnick. She needs you. I need you.”

---

Over the next few weeks, Pearl made good on her promise. She spent a fortune ensuring Finnick could spend as much time with them as possible. Those weeks were a blur of stolen happiness and unbearable heartbreak.

Finnick would wake up to the sound of Briar-Sea’s laughter as she toddled around the apartment, her tiny feet pattering against the marble floors. He’d chase her around, scooping her up and spinning her in the air as she squealed with delight.

“Again, Daddy!” she’d cry, her crystal blue eyes sparkling with joy.

And he would, over and over, because he wanted to memorize her laugh, her smile, the way she felt in his arms.

At night, he and Pearl would sit on the balcony, watching the city lights twinkle below them.

“Do you think she’ll remember me?” Finnick asked one night, his voice barely above a whisper.

Pearl’s breath hitched, and she reached for his hand. “Of course she will,” she said, her voice trembling. “We’ll talk about you every day. I’ll show her the shells you brought her, the stories you told. She’ll know who her father is.”

Finnick nodded, but the doubt lingered. He didn’t trust the Capitol to let him come back, and the thought of Briar-Sea growing up without him was a pain he couldn’t bear.

---

The day he was to leave for the Quarter Quell arrived too soon. Finnick knelt in front of Briar-Sea, who clung to her favorite seashell, a gift from him.

“Be good for Mommy, okay, sea star?” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Briar-Sea nodded solemnly, not fully understanding what was happening. “When you come back, can we go to the beach?” she asked.

Finnick’s heart broke. He forced a smile and kissed her forehead. “Of course we can,” he whispered, even though he didn’t believe it.

Pearl stood behind him, tears streaming down her face. Finnick pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair. “I love you,” he murmured. “Take care of her. Take care of yourself.”

“I love you, too,” she choked out. “Come back to us, Finnick. Please.”

He pulled back, his green eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’ll try,” he said, his voice shaking. Then he kissed her, pouring all his love and desperation into that single moment before he turned and walked away.

---

As the hovercraft took him back to the arena, Finnick sat silently, clutching a small trinket—a tiny shell necklace Briar-Sea had made with Pearl’s help. It was his anchor, his reminder of what he was fighting for.

Back in the Capitol, Pearl held Briar-Sea close, whispering stories about her father. She promised herself she would keep his memory alive for their daughter, no matter what the future held.

Finnick Odair, the Capitol darling, was more than just a survivor or a symbol. He was a father, a lover, and a man who carried the weight of a world that never truly understood him. And as he stepped into the horrors of the arena once more, his heart remained with the two girls who were his entire world.

I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did please react in anyway.

🌊🔱

[aburningconstellation]

i’ve been thinking a lot about ezra bridger & jacen syndulla this week

ezra never got to meet jacen before he disappeared. he didn’t even know hera was pregnant.

so imagine he comes back, after being gone for years, and has to re-acclimate to a galaxy he’s no longer familiar with. everyone is so excited to see him again. sabine, ahsoka, zeb, hera, kallus - even chopper - come running to welcome him back with open arms. then from behind all of them, a little boy with green hair comes tumbling through. ezra doesn’t know who he is, but the boy wraps him in a hug & says “you must be my uncle ezra! will you teach me to be a jedi? like my dad was?”

and IMMEDIATELY ezra knows. he hasn’t felt his master’s presence in years, but there is a part of him present in this child. jacen syndulla - son of kanan jarrus and hera syndulla.

in many ways ezra still feels like a padawan, even though he’s certainly been through his great trial of knighthood by this point. and even if he isn’t fully ready, he knows that he must train this boy. and what a gift that would be for ezra to teach kanan’s son all the lessons that kanan taught him, but that kanan isn’t able to teach jacen himself. to believe in this young boy and show him how to find the light and what it means to live a selfless life.

and ezra bridger gets to grow old and watch jacen grow up. there are certainly days where it’s hard, but he does not take any of them for granted. he stands a daily vigil, taking in all of jacen’s milestones. mentally cataloguing each of them before offering them to his memory of kanan. look master. look what your son can do. i see the way you live in him.

and thus continues the ever expanding circle of master to apprentice to master to apprentice.

[io-lu-art]

PUUUHHHH ok I neeeeed to rant about this cause I am watching the Acolyte as I am writing this down and I am RAGING rn. (take this with humour, pls, it's nothing bad, I promise you, lol)

requested page cut for spoilers:

So, 4 min into Episode 6 and I am wondering, that's totally Ahch-To, right? Like, that's, that's so obvious. At that point I was just waiting for the Porgs to appear (tho, did they exist 1000 or what not years ago? idk) LOL. WDYM "Unknown Planet"?

But let's put that aside.

Then the scene continues, I will not comment on it too much, HOWEVER I totally see why people say it's reylo coded. And the more I watch the more I go like NO, NO, NO plllllsssssssss don't--

THAT'S LITERALLY WHAT I AM PLANNING FOR MY FANFICTION, GUYS YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME, DO I NOW HAVE TO WRITE "I HAD THIS IDEA BEFORE THE ACOLYTE CAME OUT" AFTER EVERYTHING I POST OR WHAT? I cry.

No but really, I have proof:

This was not supposed to see the light of day before I would actually get to the point of illustrating the fanfic, but I guess now I gotta put it out there + plus this is the part of the story that I still have soooooo many other scenes to write for to connect and actually get there, hence why it freaking takes so long to work on it with uni and life happening, but--

*sighs* I mean I guess it's your average day to day trope but I am still- I... *another sigh*

I don't even read fanfiction on a daily basis. It's a wonder if I do it once every 6 months LOL. I don't even know if it is in fact a trope or not.

here, have an even rougher version from literally almost one year ago when I put together a pdf for a friend to give me feedback on in which I added some story beats that I drew around the "am I your prisoner?" scene:

You know what? It's fine. This is fine. Totally fine. It happens. I'll go on and continue watching the Acolyte ep 6 now. I stopped at min 10:50 to write this post. Let's see how much more reylo coded this actually gets. (I have seen a spoiler on Tumblr with (I believe it's) Osha holding the red blade against guy's neck.)

(I don't even know their names lol. That's how invested I am in this show. Not at all, really. But I thought, ok, let's stay up to date with the star wars fandom. I regret that now, ngl XD)

(It's not even the first time this happens to me. Remember the scene from Ahsoka when someone cuts Ezra's hair with the lightsaber? Yeah, I had that planned for a later interaction between Rey and Kylo. Welp. I refuse to post proof for that rn. It would spoil the story.)

This is so surreal and funny to me, I cannot.

[beefrobeefcal]

IT'S NEW YEARS EVE, FRIENDOS! Thank you to the peeps who participated in December's What Could Go Wrong? prompt challenge!

Still writing yours? Lucky you - deadlines are willy-nilly with me so you have until December 31st, 2025 to get yours in if you need it!

Don't forget to paroose thru the submissions below the cut and send these talented friendos some love! If you submitted yours and I have missed it, a thousand apologies and pls drop me a line!

We'll see you in soon when we learn what New Year, Same Peña really means.

Yours in spectacular sin,

Beefro👌🥩💜

VISUAL SUBMISSIONS:

Disaster Control by @schnarfer (Joel Miller)

The One with the Christmas Party by @quinnnfabrgay (Ezra)

Slippin' and Slidin' by @hellfire-state-of-mind (Joel Miller)

WRITTEN SUBMISSIONS:

Introducing the Girlfriend by @missredherring (Mrs. Flores)

Have Yourself a Scary Little Christmas by @inept-the-magnificent (Javi Gutierrez)

Director Dave by @slimybeth69 (Dave York)

Unmasked by @pedges-world (Din Djarin)

Cowboymas by @secretelephanttattoo (Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels)

festive encouragement by @jolapeno (Frankie Morales)

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch by @galway-girlatwork (Javi Gutierrez)

Again by @oliveksmoked (Din Djarin)

Almost Merry by @goodwithcheese (Javier Peña)

Jingled Balls by @strang3lov3 (Joel Miller)

Thawed by @clawdeewritesfanfic (Dieter Bravo)

Frankie Get Injured While Building a Gingerbread House by @theplumsoldier (Frankie Morales)

Bad Dog by @tinytinymenace (Din Djarin)

Life, Lights by @yopossum (Din Djarin)

Does It Feel Like Christmas Now? by @whocaresstillthelouvre (Javi Gutierrez)

Holiday Hardships by @crowandmousewritingco (Marcus Acacius)

Ballroom Blitz by @jennaispunk

Suffering Fool by @timelordfreya

Looking for my contribution? If we're lucking and this chest cold doesn't render me vertical all day, it will be released into the wild later today!

[llamasofchaos]

Ezra bridger is an amazing Jedi and you cannot tell me otherwise. I have seen so many people say that he is annoying or that he isn't as great as other rebellion age Jedi and I hate it. Jedi were never supposed to be exactly like one another. What makes o iwan great is different than what makes say windu or kit fisto great. Ezra has overcome challenges and has shown his strength differently than other Jedi. For example the dark side has been a part of Ezra's life since he was born and he has always managed to fight it. His life has been full of loss and betrayal and yet he was still able to hold onto his light and his hope. Ezra is one of the only people in canon that was manipulated and almost seduced by the dark side that beat it. Now obviously he had Kanan to help him but he still made the choice to come back to the light. Ezra bridger is one of my favorite star wars characters and I better see him get all the love when we see him in live action.

[aziraphales-library]

hello! Do you have works in which crowley's a chef/can cook? Thank you sincerely! x

Hi! Here are some chef Crowley fics...

Flambé by gazing (T)

“Chef Crowley, sir? I don’t think he does special requests-“ “He does for me.” Aziraphale cuts in smoothly. “Tell him it’s Aziraphale.” - Alternatively: Aziraphale frequents Devil’s Kitchen, a dessert restaurant in Soho. He’s rather infatuated with the head pastry chef…

Sometimes it's cosmic, sometimes it's cocktail weiners by myladyclegane (M)

All executive chef Anthony J Crowley wanted was a cider and some time with the girls(of the Golden variety) after his double shift, what he gets is playing savior when his best friend and next door neighbor (and desperate crush) has to unexpectedly host a last minute game night for his awful co-workers.

As Sweet As This by vantablck (G)

One moment, Crowley had a high position at a top Michelin rated restaurant. The next, her career was taking a metaphorical million light-year dive into a lake of boiling sulfur and she was moving back into her small childhood town. Cue Aziraphale, the childhood best friend she’s been pining over since time immemorial. Cue Crowley’s oh so brilliant idea of co-owning a restaurant with her.

Till I Saw You by curiouswriterkr (E)

Crowley is a burned out chef recovering from adrenal fatigue in Tadfield. Aziraphale, a gifted musician with a big, soft heart, happens to be performing one evening at an open mic. Their eyes collide and inevitably, so do their lives, helping each other step into healing, truth and more joy.

Style and Substance by Cabernet_Woebegone (E)

“But y’know, if my boss finds out I’m helping you even a little, they’re gonna throw me out on my ass.” “Yes, I understand it is a bit of a conflict of interest for you… Is there something I can offer you in return? Something you would like?” Aziraphale questioned hopefully. You, Crowley thought loudly as he took a second sip. I want to know if you moan when you kiss the same way you do when you try something delicious. I want to know if your lips taste like Zinfandel. “Yes, actually.” Aziraphale is having difficulty running his restaurant, and it isn't helping that he believes the place across the street is trying to sabotage him. To his surprise, chef Crowley comes to him on friendly terms. Together they come up with an arrangement that could benefit them both. (Explicit rating for chapters 10 , 14 & 17, see tags for description. Please do not record this as a podfic or repost this fic anywhere! Thank you!)

Capellini d'Angelo by AngeliqueTombee (E)

Ezra E. Fell is new to America, the restaurant industry, and to getting positive attention -- especially from men the likes of Chef Anthony Crowley, an award-winning chef who's angling to bag his first Michelin star. Despite both being foreigners in a foreign land, can Ezra and Crowley overcome hellish hours, diabolically bad co-workers, fiendish guests, apocalyptic-feeling hurdles, and all the other rigours of typical industry life and make their relationship work? And should Crowley even bother aiming for the stars?

- Mod D

[rabbit-flaying]

A Taste of Paradise chapter one

Content Warnings: pet whump, drugging, kidnapping, carewhumper, emotional manipulation, manipulative whumper and whumpee, dubiously consensual intimacy (nonsexual), mild xenophobia

Note: Thanks a million to @kira-the-whump-enthusiast for being my editor a few months ago. And I am once again apologizing for my disappearance.

Ezra roused himself from a deep sleep. He didn't feel all that well rested, but foggy in the mind and disconnected from any sense of physical touch.

The first thing he noticed was the lavender. A sweet but bitter edged smell, too natural to be a common fragrance yet too strong to come from a growing plant.

It reminded Ezra of a field trip he had taken as a teenager. They had gone to see a lavender farm, which had been a snooze fest until fire caught a tree on the farm and they had to evacuate.

He realized, then, he was laying with his head on someone's lap.

Someone was playing with his hair.

Ezra's eyes shot open, revealing that he was anywhere but his apartment. Rather, he was laying on a sofa in a cozy sort of living room, in the snug embrace of a knit blanket.

A fire flickered in the hearth, despite all evidence of the home's electricity like overhead lights and electrical switches on the walls. The lights weren't in use, for more than enough sunlight streamed in through the windows.

He had never been so comfortable.

"Ah, awake at last. How lovely."

The voice evidently belonged to the man playing with Ezra's hair. His tone was calming, despite bearing a Russian accent which Americans were conditioned to distrust immediately. Ezra felt this gut reaction to be unfair, but he wasn't in any mental state to start unpacking it.

Ezra sat up and rubbed his eyes, bringing the world further into focus. But all he could comprehend was the firm hand on his shoulder, holding him still and showing affection in the same instance.

His company looked familiar, despite Ezra's certainty that they had never met. He looked to be about forty, maybe older, smile lines etched on his skin and gray streaks in his mousy brown hair. His glasses were circular, in a style that hadn't been popular for a long time.

Ezra had never missed time or lost memories before, and was suddenly sympathetic to people with regular dissociation. Maybe this was what his online friend Isadora was always joking about.

"Where am I?" he asked. "Sorry, sorry, that's rude, isn't it? I've never woken up in some guy's house before. Not that kind of a person- Wait, sorry again. Who are you?"

"It's quite alright," the man said. "My name is Christopher Vadimevich. And I already know who you are, my dear Ezra."

"Christopher Vad- what?" The need for clarification embarrassed him. He always gave people hell for not being able to pronounce Arabic names, but now he was stumped on a Russian one.

"My apologies. Most Americans don't use patronymics, do they? My name is Christopher Kotev. But just Christopher will do."

Ezra tried for politeness. "Nice to meet you, sir. I don't know what's happening here. But my job at Safeway probably isn't going to give me more sick leave just for having amnesia. So I'd better go now, if that's alright with you."

"Oh, stay awhile." Christopher's smile reached his light brown eyes, looking perfectly genuine despite his strange words. "I'll make you some tea, and I have borscht almost done cooking."

Ezra inhaled deeply through his nose, the smell of lavender proving nearly as overwhelming as his confusion. He definitely had amnesia.

Was this Christopher taking care of him?

On that note… What year was it? Covid came with awful time loss, of course, but surely it still had to be 2021.

He would just have to play along. Every problem had a solution. His whole life had been spent finding them, no matter how tough things got. And besides, no horror movie was ever set in a cozy home with Tchaikovsky playing from a vinyl record.

This couldn't be too unpleasant, now could it?

"Well?" Christopher asked. "Won't you stay for lunch?"

"Yes, I sure will." Ezra forced a smile, mentally rewinding their conversation. "Um, what's borscht? I'm totally pronouncing that wrong, but anyway. What is it?"

This was just like him. Missing the forest for the trees, and in turn even missing the trees themselves in favor of their leaves. He had always been one to fill in the center of jigsaw puzzles before doing the edges. If he was eating with a stranger, he may as well ask what's on the menu.

"It's a sort of stew," Christopher readily explained. "Very popular in Russia after potatoes were brought over from Americas. Everyone makes it differently, but all with beets and cabbage and such things."

"That sounds nice. I can't remember the last time I had stew."

"Come along to the kitchen then. It's almost done."

Christopher stood up, and Ezra automatically did the same. He didn't complain when Christopher put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to the kitchen. 'Sit still and look pretty' was second nature, especially in confusing predicaments. And besides. What choice did he have?

The dining room looked straight out of an edition of Home and Garden. It got put to proper use, with ceramic plates in the sink and children's crayon drawings held to the fridge with magnets.

But still, it was squeaky clean, not a speck of dirt in sight. Ezra hadn't mastered the art of making soup without spilling on the stovetop, but Christopher evidently had.

A light blue cloth draped over the table, and on it was a centerpiece of a golden angel standing on a lace doily and holding two unlit candles in her hands. Flowerpots sat on every windowsill and other available flat surface. Mostly lavender, of course, alongside forget-me-nots and jasmine.

Ezra felt painfully out of place. But he sat at the table anyway, with his back against the wall so he could watch Christopher busy himself in the kitchen.

"It's so nice to have company for lunch," he was saying. "I get lonesome by myself."

"Well… I'm happy to be here," Ezra lied, taking a stab at lightening the mood. "I mean, I can't complain as long as you're feeding me, right?"

Christopher chuckled. He was filling his tea kettle with tap water. "You sound like my family. About only time I see them is for Sunday lunches."

Ezra didn't hesitate before baiting his line to fish for any information he could reel in. "Your family? I don't know anything about them."

"Oh, you know." Christopher set the kettle on a burner, and lit a petrol flame beneath it. "I immigrated with my parents when i was ten years old. From Soviet Union, of course. I have five- I mean four siblings. Lots of nieces and nephews, as you can tell by the front of my fridge. And a husband who forgets I exist if I'm not in his direct line of sight. But no kids myself. Very normal sort of family."

"I don't really talk to my family, you know. But yours sounds nice." Ezra cleared his throat. "You have a husband? Sorry, I don't mean it like that. It's just surprising." He could feel his cheeks warming unbearably. "Wait no- I- I'm gonna shut up now."

Christopher turned around, giving Ezra his full attention and a warm smile. He seemed to understand what it meant to a young man with no offline friendships, to meet another queer person.

"Nothing you could possibly say could compare to my mother," he said. "Believe me, I've heard it all. So, to answer your question, that's right. I was married seventeen years ago."

"That's nice." Ezra decided to change the subject. This wasn't going anywhere. "Can I admit something?"

"You may tell me anything you like."

"I don't know who you are. I think I hit my head or something. Maybe you should take me to the hospital." His voice was growing shrill. "I already joked about amnesia, but I was trying to wait for my memories to come back and they're not."

"Oh, my dear Ezra," Christopher said softly. "We've never met."

Christopher set a steaming bowl of stew in front of Ezra. The broth was bright red, and chunks of potato swam in it along with shredded vegetables and beef. Christopher set his own plate across the table from Ezra, and returned to the kitchen for what he had missed.

Ezra processed the revelation, trying to make it fix all the problems that had started when he woke up. But it didn't work. Instead, he was left with more questions to sort out.

The longer he tried to solve this puzzle, the more pieces he lost sight of.

Now there were glasses of water on the table. He watched Christopher scrape sour cream into his borscht, turning the broth a milky shade of pink.

"Then why am I in your house?" Ezra had apologized for being rude so many times already, and didn't feel like repeating himself again. "Who are you?"

"My name is Christopher Vadimevich Kotev. Yours is Ezra al Farrah. I've known you for a long while. So I am finally making our introduction. You are in my home, of course. And you have nothing to fear."

"You know that saying I shouldn't fear makes me more afraid, right?" Ezra fidgeted with the hem of the tablecloth while he spoke, trying not to relapse into his old habit of nail biting. "You do know that? Don't you?"

"What I mean is that I'm not going to hurt you. Enjoy the stew, and I'll make tea when the kettle starts singing."

"Then I can go home?"

"Why would you possibly want that?"

Ezra wanted to call Christopher stupid. Of course he wanted to go home. Who wouldn't?

But the question begged to be answered. Ezra hated his apartment. And his roommates. And his job. Not to mention every other cord that made up the tapestry of his life.

"Because I don't trust you." The only conceivable answer. "And you probably kidnapped me. What more do I need?"

Christopher took a sip of water before responding. "Well, I am a doctor. So if the drugging has any long term effects, please tell me. I know how to treat such things. You're in good hands."

"I don't remember being drugged. But I guess they fucked with my memory. That's the point. I'll let you know about any nausea or dizziness."

"Good good. Other things to look out for are headaches, muscle soreness, and a sensitivity to light."

Ezra finally realized just how similar he and his captor were when a problem needed to be solved. He had been roofied, so now they had to deal with lingering symptoms. It was only logical. If only he could figure out how to use their shared attention to details above the big picture to his advantage.

"I know that you're allergic to onions, so I left them out of the stew." Christopher shook salt into his own. "You should try eating. I know you must be hungry. And drink some water. It'll help flush the drugs from your system."

Ezra did as he was told, tilting back the glass to drink from. Drinking water seemed much easier than eating, at least for the time being. He found himself parched as though he had never tasted water before. He finished the glass, which barely satisfied him. Christopher proved nice enough to refill it at the sink.

"You know everything about me, apparently," Ezra said bluntly, refusing both to make eye contact. "From my preferred name to my allergies. So now I get to ask you some questions."

"I'll answer your questions as long as you eat. Would you like sour cream or salt?"

"No thanks. And you sound like my grandmother, by the way."

Despite his complaints, Ezra found his first bite of borscht very pleasant. He had never tried beets, and figured they must be the source of its unusual flavor.

He wolfed half the bowl down before giving himself any opportunity to talk. Maybe he was hungry after all.

"How long have you been stalking me, anyway?" He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "And how have you been doing it?"

"A few months now. Since last February. And my methods were rather traditional. Following you around, eavesdropping, and all like that."

"You're very calm about this, aren't you? Ugh, nevermind. Next question. Why me?"

"People watching is a hobby of mine, and we frequent the same library. I've never been so invested in someone as I became with you. You were always going out of your way to be helpful and kind. Yet no one around you ever showed appreciation. It seemed so unfair, watching you struggle to make ends meet but still tipping cashiers and waiters whenever you could.

"I wanted so many times to help you, but I never knew how." Christopher reached across the table and held Ezra's hand. "This is my solution. I am going to give you a taste of paradise. Our own little Eden."

Ezra marveled at the butterflies in his stomach. He must have been crazy, the way he smiled at the man who had kidnapped him.

But in a perverse way, this was everything he had ever wanted to hear. He had always hated himself for the way he chased after attention. Now those feelings had increased sevenfold. No good deed went unpunished. He knew that fully well.

But maybe this punishment wouldn't be too unbearable.

"You're insane," he managed, forcing the smile off his face. "I mean, have you gotten checked out? This isn't… normal."

"I have 'gotten checked out'. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Nothing that disconnects me from reality. I'm not unstable. This was all very well thought out."

Ezra had to laugh as he pulled his hand away from Christopher's. It was a strung out and shrill sort of noise. "Right, of course you have the same personality disorder as me. I bet you knew about our twin diagnosis already. Explains so much."

"What do you think it explains?" Christopher was finished with his stew, and folded his hands politely on his lap.

"I know what you're doing, so don't act sly. You're being nice to me. Nobody else does that. They just call me annoying. You're screwing with my unstable ego to get me to like you. Why else would you be talking to me like this? You're obvious."

"Your generation with its pop-psychology…" Christopher slowly shook his head. "People may have taught you that your natural desire for kindness is something to be ashamed of. But I know differently. I want to be kind to you. I want you to be happy. And yes, I do want you to like me. But that isn't my sole motivation."

"Well- I- I know how your brain works. Why have you decided that I'm worth your time? I must have done something that you decided was special."

Ezra hoped his compliment fishing wouldn't be called out. After all, Christopher also knew how his brain worked.

"I don't know how to explain my feelings towards you. But I want to make sure you eat well, and show you the affection you're lacking. Is that so difficult to understand?"

"Yeah, it is." Ezra shoved his dishes forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Because you're going to get sick of me eventually. Everyone does. I'm manipulative and obnoxious and- well, you get it. I can't cook. I can't clean. I can barely hold a job. You aren't going to get anything out of me but a healthy dose of frustration."

"Your worth does not lie in your labor or how well you comply with societal norms. I see something beautiful in you, even if you cannot. So let go of all your anxiety and just let this happen. I love you, my dear Ezra. And this is what matters."

Tears burned the corners of Ezra's eyes as they fought to escape their imprisonment. He couldn't believe he was crying. It felt so stupid. But no one, not one person in his entire life, had said anything so kind to him.

More than that, he couldn't remember the last time he had heard the word love from someone who didn't revel in sarcasm or insincerity.

He still had his wits about him, despite the tears in his eyes, and he didn't want to delude himself too badly.

Christopher didn't really love him. This was just an obsession, something Ezra himself was quite familiar with. But as long as Christopher kept talking like this, semantics hardly seemed to matter.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Christopher said, still sounding all too kind. "I really didn't mean to upset you."

"It's okay," Ezra managed, trying not to cause inconvenience with his feelings. "I'm fine. Don't- Don't worry."

But now Christopher was by his side and not listening to any of his excuses. He hugged Ezra, leaning down and quite literally giving him a shoulder to cry on. Ezra clung tightly to him, desperate for the affection he had craved for so many years. He would stay like this forever if he could. Overwhelmed by joy and the smell of lavender perfume.

"Is this my fault?" he croaked, knowing how nonsensical it must sound.

"That makes it sound like this is a punishment… But no, I suppose not. This is my responsibility entirely."

"And I'm not allowed to leave?"

"Of course not. You need to stay here. You're a beautiful and fragile thing, and I will not allow the world to mistreat you any longer. You'll be better off as a pet, of sorts, than anything you were before."

This was all Ezra's brain needed to rid him of his doubts. After all, he couldn't be blamed for any of this. He wasn't giving up entirely. When opportunity knocked, he would escape through the door it chose.

People would have to be sympathetic when he told them all that had happened. He didn't even need to play the victim. He was the victim.

"I'll stay with you." Ezra bit back his tears. "You've been very kind. I couldn't possibly think of leaving now."

"I'm so happy to hear that. I love you." Christopher released Ezra from the hug, and smiled down on him. "All I'm asking from you is obedience, and you're so good at that already."

"I love you too," Ezra lied sweetly. "Thank you for everything."

A light screeching sound filled the kitchen. The boiling water sounded as though it were in pain, steam desperately escaping through the small slit it had available.

"I'll make tea." Christopher returned to the kitchen, looking as happy as a proverbial clam. "Now, do you like sugar or honey?"

Taglist: @inbloodandtears @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @i-eat-worlds @whatwasmyprevioususername @boonasaurusrex @suspicious-whumping-egg @parasitebunny

So I went and forgot like the entire taglist after I erased my entire internet presence. I'm going off memory. And for some people, I remember you, but damn I cannot recall your username. If you would like to be added, please tell me!

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Pieces of Him

Cult leader Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Dead Dove! Horror! 18+ only! Ritualistic cannibalism, angst, death, blood, cameo from Ezra, made up religion, betrayal, infidelity, p in v, non/dub con (heavier on the non but added dub just to cover my bases), oral (f receiving), squirting, pregnancy/breeding (they literally just had sex so no actual fetus, Joel is just delulu) reader can be picked up, and oh yea Joel is out of his damn mind, pretty sure that’s it. Not beta’d, lightly edited, all mistakes are my own! Moodboard made by me(:

Joel was a young man when he married the love of his life. High school sweethearts. They were only twenty one when Laura got pregnant. Joel immediately got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife. The two had a cozy little house on a few acres, about an hour outside of town. When Laura went into labor, Joel about fainted. He was terrified of becoming a dad, he wanted his girl to have better than he ever did. Unfortunately right after Laura pushed little Sarah out into the world, things took a turn for the worst. She lost a lot of blood and kept losing blood. The doctors took Sarah and pushed Joel out of the room trying to save her. He’ll never forget how cold that hospital waiting room was when the drs finally came out and told him Laura had passed. The loss of his wife took a toll on Joel. Not only did he lose his best friend and wife, he had to raise a newborn on his own. Thankfully he had his brother, Tommy, who helped out a ton with Sarah. But life was not kind to Joel Miller. Twelve years. He got twelve years with his Sarah before the day his sweet girl got struck by a drunk driver and killed. He became a shell of a man, void of all emotion and life. That was until he met a very charming man one day.

Ezra was a gypsy of sorts. Never staying in one place, always on the move. And spreading this gospel about this amazing creator and all the good things he does and can do for you if you please him. Joel met him when Ezra was walking past his house. He happened to be outside when Ezra spotted him. Joel didn’t even notice him until he was already standing next to him as Joel looked out over his big yard, depressed because there should be kids out there playing. Sarah should be out there, running around, while him and Laura cook dinner on the grill. When Joel did notice the stranger standing next to him, he tried telling him he didn’t want whatever he was trying to sell. Joels efforts to shake the man went unnoticed as Ezra rambled on and on. Not too long into the conversation, Ezra told Joel about The Children of Ares. Not like any religion Joel’s ever heard of, he was intrigued. Ezra promised eternal life, salvation. A guarantee Joel will be reunited with Sarah and Laura. There was a small group in town who also followed the same practice. Not long after meeting Ezra, Joel went to a meeting in town and soon found himself deeply immersed in this religion.

Fast forward ten years, Joel is now a high priest in The Children of Ares. It’s grown a lot since he’s joined. And even more so since he’s taken this position of power.

💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️

Strolling down the main street on a Friday night, you, your boyfriend and your three friends are all laughing and joking enjoying the brisk fall night. Halloween decorations line the store shop windows, there’s orange and black fairy lights strung up along the sidewalk, going from post to post. On the corner in front of you is the towns crack head spewing his usual nonsense about “the masked freaks who eat people out in the woods”. You’ve never paid him any mind but for some reason his words have you on edge.

“Hey Steve why don’t you go hit the crack pipe again and shut the fuck up!” Your boyfriend, Liam, yells to the man.

Steve narrows his beady eyes at your group, “You’ll regret that boy. The big man is coming. He’s gonna get you and there wont be a lick of you remaining.”

The unease of his words pours over your body and you don’t notice the man standing there, waiting to cross the street when you bump into him.

“Oh oh I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there! Are you okay?” You quickly say as you bounce off of the man you bumped into. Not only is he tall, he’s practically a human wall. The man turns and looks at you, at first with a scowl on his face. But once he gets an eye full of who bumped into him, he quickly replaces the scowl with a smile.

“Oh it’s no problem honey, shit happens,” he says with a chuckle, “I bump into things all the time. Joel. Joel Miller” He says to you with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye as he reaches out his hand for you to shake.

Smiling, you shake his hand and tell him your name. You can’t help but notice how handsome he is. The salt and pepper hair, scruffy facial hair, that smile and those eyes! Not to mention his body! For an older man, he is jacked. You can just tell through his jacket he’s got thick biceps and these meaty thighs. You envision a soft tummy under those clothes. You can’t help but get lost in thought as you stare at the older man.

Joel notices you just staring and let’s out a little chuckle, “Well hey I’m apart of this little group. We’re having a bonfire tonight if you and your friends wanna swing by. There’ll be drinks, food, the works. Here have my card, I can text you the address if you want.”

“Oh yea for sure! That sounds fun!” You say over enthusiastically as you take the card from him and pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to type his number in and send a text. Right after you hit send, his phone dings

“That’s me! Just text the address and we’ll be there!” You give him a big smile as he smiles back at you before nodding his head and giving you a little wave.

Your friends were a little ahead of you, waiting for you to catch up.

“Ooohh someone’s gotta crush!” Your friend Aaliyah said in a singsong voice. The twins, Salem and Violet, standing next to her giggling, covering their laughs behind their hands.

“Oh shut up I bumped into him and he invited us to a bonfire. Besides I already have my handsome, wonderful boyfriend right here.” You say as you look at Liam, sliding your arm around him, looking up at him with hearts in your eyes. Liam snuggles up to your side but keeps his eyes trained on Aaliyah with a shit eating grin on his face.

Scrunching your face up in confusion you look where he’s looking and the unease gets worse. You stand there watching the two have this little flirty stare off.

“Come on guys let’s go check this thing out. It’ll be fun.” You say to break up the tension you now feel between your boyfriend and friend.

💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️

You, Liam, Aaliyah, and the twins all piled into Liam’s truck as you made your way to the bonfire. Joel lives out in the middle of nowhere. After driving for awhile with nothing but corn fields and woods as far as the eye can see, you notice a bright orange flame off in the distance. That must be the bonfire.

Soon you pulled up and turned onto crunchy gravel driveway after traveling on a dirt road for a good portion of the trip. Joel has a nice one story house with a huge yard. The bonfire is behind the house, off a good distance, closer to the tree line but not close enough to accidentally set the woods on fire. There are several cars in the driveway, Liam parked his truck in the grass beside the driveway. As you and your friends got out of the truck, you stood there looking up at the night sky. You could see all the stars and the moon. It was very peaceful, a nice reprieve from the horrible gut feeling you’ve had.

“Hey! You guys just get here?” Some guy yells at you as he walks towards you from the bonfire.

“Yea! We were invited by Joel!” You yelled back

“Well come on back new friends of Joel’s.” He says back with a smile.

You smile back as you walk around the truck to join your boyfriend and go to grab his hand. Except he pulls his hand away without looking at you and follows the guy to the bonfire. Your group walks in silence, music fills the air. You end up in the back of the group, following in silence, feeling left out like everyone is in on this inside joke and they’re all laughing at you but you don’t know why.

Just as your passing the deck attached to the back of the house, you feel a hand grab your arm making you jump, forcing you from your thoughts.

“Hey darlin. It’s good to see ya came.” Joel says in a low baritone voice. Seeing the older man’s face and hearing his voice is already lifting your spirits. And awakening something else within you, between your thighs.

“I’m glad I came too. It’s good to see you again.” You get out breathlessly with a giggle. You literally sound like a love stricken school girl. You have got to get a grip on yourself.

“If ya want something to drink or anything, my door is open darlin. Help yourself to whatever alright?”

Nodding your head yes, a comfortable silence between you two as you share a smile before heading towards the fire.

💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️

Sitting around the bonfire, you laughed and joked with all the others that are there. Joel almost hardly ever left your side, even going as far as putting his arm around you. In a friendly way of course, but your pussy didn’t see it that way. Whenever his big, meaty hands touched you, your body would heat up almost as if he lit a fire on whatever part of your body he touched. Your friends keeping more to themselves, acting stuck up almost. It makes you feel bad you dragged them out there. You didn’t want them to ruin your newly made friends’ night. At one point you looked over and saw Liam and Aaliyah sneak off toward the trees. That bad gut feeling rearing it’s ugly head, as strong as ever. Joel had gone somewhere, so you got up from your seat and followed them as unsuspiciously as you could. Just before you reached the tree line you could see your boyfriend and friend standing there, kissing. Nausea hit you like a truck, the world around you spinning. Your heart dropped out of your ass. You couldn’t believe what your seeing. How could they? But also this is making everything make sense. No wonder Aaliyah always seemed jealous of your relationship. No wonder Liam’s been acting more distant lately. Tears slipped out of your eyes as you turn around and walk all the way back to Joel’s house.

Walking in through his back door, your head hanging down you don’t notice the scowling old man standing on the other side of the sliding door until your shoulder bumps into him.

“Oh! Oh Joel I-I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t m-me. . “

“Darlin don’t you say sorry again. You ain’t do nothing wrong,” he says as his hand reaches out to cup your face, “I saw what happened honey. If anyone’s sorry it’s those two. You don’t deserve that. Not one bit.” His thumb slowly caressing your check as he swipes away a stray tear. You reach up and grab onto his wrist of the hand holding your face. Joel moves closer to you as you look deep into his eyes. Slowly you inch closer to his face, looking at him with heavy lidded eyes before bridging the gap and bringing your lips to his. His lips press back against yours, feeling plush and warm. Lighting up every nerve in your body. You feel him breathe in deep through his nose as he begins to kiss you back harder. You break the kiss just to press your lips back against his, repeating the action several times. The two of you just kissing each other before you pull back and stare up at him with wide eyes,

“J-Joel I- I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry, you don’t want me I-“

“What did I tell you, darlin? Stop saying sorry. And don’t you dare say I don’t want you. I’ve been dying to have a taste of those pretty lips since we first ran into each other.” Joel’s hand that’s still cupping your face slides down to your chin as he grips your face between his thumb and fore finger and brings your face back to his. His lips bruise yours as he kisses you deeply, parting your lips with his tongue as he begins to slowly lick into your mouth. You gladly open up and let him in, softly moaning into the kiss, and you enter your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues twirling around each other before you suck his tongue, causing him to growl. His other hand grabs the back of your head, smashing your face even more into his. His aquiline nose smashed into the side of your nose as you continued to passionately kiss Joel. Your hands wrapped around his thick torso, holding him tightly to you, your hands gripping his flannel. Joel bends at the knee as his hands grip the backs of your thighs and hoists you up. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you further into his home. You bury your face in his neck and start to lightly suck on his neck causing him to let out this deep growl as his grip tightens. Soon he’s tossing you like a rag doll and your back hits a soft bed. Wasting no time Joel leans over you and begins to take your pants off. You lift your hips to help him and begin to pull your shirt off, tossing it to the side. Now only clad in your bra and panties, Joel just stares at you with dark eyes as he looks you up and down. Devouring every curve of you with his eyes alone.

“Tell me you want this darlin. I gotta hear those words. I gotta hear you say you want this before we go any further.” Joel says as he goes to grab your chin and pull you towards him.

“I want this. I want you Joel. Please.” You beg. Eyes blown wide open as you drink in the sight of this beautiful man in front of you.

Joel wastes no more time and begins to pull his shirt up over his head before unbuckling his pants and quickly getting rid of them. He crawls up the bed, hovering over you before lowering himself. His plush lips meet yours as he kisses you deeply. Your hands raise up to cup his face as he wraps an arm around your shoulders as his other arm reaches down and pulls your leg up on his hip. The two of slowly grinding your bodies into each other, tongues conversing with one another. The heat from his body lighting your body up like the Fourth of July. The hand on your leg moves in between your bodies as Joel finds your sweet wet haven and rubs your slit up and down causing your slick to leave an even bigger damp spot on your panties. Every touch, kiss, grind has you so wound tight. He pushes your panties aside and dips a finger in, gathering your wetness before trailing up to your clit, going in soft circles.

His light touch has you gasping into his mouth. Joel just smiles as he kisses you one more time before moving down to your neck. Wet, open mouthed kisses leaving a trail down your neck, to your collarbone, in between your breasts. He makes his way slowly kissing down your stomach, Joel looks up and sees you staring back at him. Those gorgeous brown eyes staring back at you, you swear he can see your soul. His hands tug on your panties and begin to peel them off of you. Once removed, Joel’s big hands land on your inner thighs as he spreads you even wider as he admires your body.

“So fucking pretty baby. This for me?” He asked as he dips a thick finger in your entrance. Moaning and shaking your head yes, just barely hanging on.

Chuckling, “This sweet little slice of heaven belongs to me now honey,” he says before dipping his head down and giving your clit a couple kitten licks. His hand travels up your body and cups your breast, squeezing, before he pinch’s your nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

“It’s yours Joel. I’m yours oh god I’m yours” your head thrown back as you babble incoherently. Joel smiles into your pussy before his tongue is back, licking wide stripes up your cunt before finding your clit and giving her a few sweet kisses before he closes his lips around the button and sucks. His hand still on your breast rotating between squeezing and rolling your nipple while his other hand has snaked its way to your cunt. Two thick fingers curled up in you have you gasping for air. His mouth and hands alone have already brought you close to the brink of tears. Never feeling ecstasy as good as this before. His fingers find rhythm curling up, hitting that sweet spongy spot inside of you. His sweet mouth never letting up on its assault on your clit.

“R-rrright there!! Oh god right there don’t stop oh fuck please don’t stop j-Joel oh Joel!!!” You start to scream his name as he brings you to the ultimate euphoria. Your cunt spasming as you squirt all over his beautiful face. You grab onto his curls and try to move his head as he continues to lick and suck on you. Barely able to even catch your breath, your cunt starting to hurt from the overstimulation from his mouth. Unable to move his head, you just grip his curls and hang on for dear life already on the brink of a second orgasm. His tongue and fingers are relentless never once letting up. Before you can even register what’s happening, your coming again. Squirt just dribbling out this time rather than shooting out at Joel. Your whole body shaking, boneless as he looks up at you. His face wet as he gives you this shit eating smile,

“That’s it baby give me every drop of your sweet essence.” He says as he admires your sore cunt before running his tongue through your folds one more time.

Joel sits back on his haunches as he grabs your hips and flips you over on your stomach, pulling your butt up slightly as he notched himself at your entrance.

“I think your sweet little pussy is ready for me now darlin. Whatcha think baby? Think she can handle me?” He says with a dark chuckle as he starts to feed you his cock inch by inch. You feel yourself stretch to accommodate his girthy length. Every little bit of his cock sliding along your walls has you quivering. The pace he’s going feels like forever before he hits home and buried his entire length inside you. His cock punches all the air from your lungs, all you can do is fist the sheets beneath you as your mouth drops opens in a quiet scream.

“Fuck she’s squeezing me so tight already honey. Poor baby hasn’t been fucked right, has she? Awe I don’t think she has. Needs daddy’s big cock to stretch her out how she likes huh? Yea she does.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. Your face smashed into the bed, all you can do is nod your head. His filthy mouth has you ready to beg for more. Ready to beg him to fuck you hard. Too see you so pliant and ready to take whatever he gives you has Joel’s eyes rolling back as he pulls out until the tip is left before pushing back in with a quick thrust. He finds his pace with ease, giving you hard, unrelenting thrusts that push you up on the bed as you try your hardest to push back, wanting to fuck yourself back on his cock. But all you can do is lay there and take him. Joel leans down, his chest covering your back as he bites down on your shoulder. You moan loudly as your head lifts off the bed, tilting back. His hands find yours, his fingers interlocking with yours as you continue to grip the sheets. His pace slowed ever so slightly so you feel every thrust, every vein, every inch go in and back out. You swear you might black out from how delicious his cock feels deep inside you. Feeling fuller than you ever have,

“Jj- joooeeeeelllll nngh I-I’m gonna - oh. I-I’m gonna cum daddy fuuuckk oh please don’t stop!” You manage to get out as you move your head to the side, managing a whisper in his ear. Joel moves his face from your shoulder to your face and does his best to kiss you. It’s rather sloppy as you both go to lick into each others mouth, only to barely make it in, getting the sides of each others mouths more.

“Oh good baby good. Give daddy what he wants. Let me feel this sweet fuckin cunt cum all over me. That’s it, that’s fucking it sweet girl oh fuck I can feel her baby I can feel her coming nngh oh.” He moans into your ear as you hit your third orgasm of the night. Your whole body seizes up and you begin to come, your cunt milking his cock for all its worth. Judging by the grunts coming from Joel he’s close too. His thrusts become sloppy before you feel him thrust all the way in and begin pulsing. His thick load coating your walls, you swear you feel him in your womb. He stays inside you for awhile after, resting his head on your back as you both catch your breath and come down from your highs.

He pulls out and moves to lay next to you, helping you to roll on your side. He wraps you up in his blanket before holding you tight to his chest. You bury your face in his chest, taking a deep breath in. His woodsy, musk scent filling your nostrils. Your so spent, sleep finds it’s way to you with ease. The both of you holding onto each other, you eyes finally shut as you drift off to sleep.

💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️💀♥️

You roll over, trying to find warmth as you start to open your eyes. All too soon it hits you, you slept with the older man you had just met. Joel. You’re still in his bed but he’s gone. Your friends!! The bonfire! You sit up quickly before the memories of what you saw flood back into your consciousness. Fuck Liam and Aaliyah. How dare they betray you like that? You climb out of Joel’s bed and grab a red flannel off the ground and pull it on. The shirt covering what you need it to cover as you button it up a little bit, leaving the top four buttons undone. You decide to go out and find Joel, bring him back to bed. As you walk into the kitchen, you look out the window above the sink and make out the bonfire is still going strong. The clock on the wall reads 3am on the dot. Curious you open the sliding patio door and step outside, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. You keep on walking towards the bonfire. As you get closer, it seems like everyone’s gone. Suddenly you notice a robe swishing behind a tree, you decide to follow. Walking into the woods, it doesn’t take long before you find everyone. The sight makes you stop in your tracks. Everyone’s backs are to you, all dressed in white robes with these masks covering the top half of their faces. The bonfire still close enough to give you enough light to notice red. The sleeves and bottoms of the white robes are covered in red and they’re all eating? What looks like red, raw meat in their hands, feasting as if they were animals. You move to go back to the house when your foot hits something and you look down and notice a severed arm. You gasp loudly, putting your hand over your mouth. Jumping back in fright, you hit a solid wall. Turning around, you find Joel.

“What are you doing out here darlin? You aren’t meant to see this. Not right now. Not good for the baby.”

Terrified and absolutely confused by what he meant by that you start to back up.

“I-I Joel please. I-I’m sorry I didn’t know I-“ swinging your head around, everyone has now stopped and are looking your way. An endless sea of blank white masks staring at you. You can see the pile of bodies they were circled around. You make out Liam’s head laying next to a pile of intestines. Human flesh hanging in their hands as they’ve all come to a stop. Your eyes wide in horror as you realize those were your friends. Their bodies laying on the cold hard ground, filleted wide open. Severed body parts scattered about. They were eating them. Actually eating their lifeless bodies.

You turn back to Joel before you trip and fall on your ass. You start to slowly crawl backwards, away from him.

Slowly getting down on his knees before getting into a crawl position, “Now don’t do something stupid honey. It’s okay. I built this community for us. For you. I’ve been waiting for the day my queen came home to me. This is our kingdom to rule.” He says in a low, gravelly voice as he begins to crawl towards you. A terrifying predator coming for his prey. You do your best to crawl backwards while still facing him but he reaches out and grabs your ankle, pulling you toward him.

Thrashing your leg, trying to get out of his hold, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“Joel please! Let me go! I won’t tell anyone just let me go!” You try to beg, hoping he’ll take mercy on you as you grab onto the leg he has a hold off and try your hardest to yank back out of his grasp.

Joel just smirks at you as he climbs on top of you. His hands grab both of yours and holds them together, pinned to the ground.

“Don’t you see? I did all of this for you baby. I gave you a beautiful home, a community of people who love you. Why can’t you see that? Those others only hurt you, betrayed you. I love you darlin. Always have. I need ya to calm down now honey this is for your own good.” He tells you as you continue to struggle to get out of his grip. He manages to grip both of your hands in one of his as he brings his hand to his mouth. He bites into the fatty part of his hand, drawling blood. He shoves the bleeding hand into your open mouth. The metallic taste hitting your tongue, making you gag.

“Stop it! Stop moving dammit! This is for your own good! You need me! You need my life essence baby! The baby needs it! Take it!” He shouts at you as he continues to shove his hand into your mouth. Unable to get out of his grip or close your mouth, you finally give in and stop moving, letting his blood flood your mouth. Tears stream down your face as you realize you aren’t getting away from this. From him. He’s convinced you’re with child even though it’s only been hours since you’ve had sex. It’s literally impossible for that. Yet he sure thinks so. And on top of that, he’s convinced you belong to him and you need his blood and then there’s the fucking human eating monsters behind you. You aren’t getting out of this alive. Playing along is the only option you have.

“That’s it baby there’s my good girl. I love you darlin. Don’t you love me?” He asks as he removes his hand.

“I love you Joel. I’m so sorry.” You whimper out, only audible enough for him to hear. Joel leans down and captures your bloody lips with his. Kissing you deeply, shoving his tongue inside your mouth. You kiss back, not really having any other choice but to kiss him back.

Joel’s free hand moves down to your cunt, dipping a bloody finger in between your folds, giving you a couple quick rubs on your clit before removing his hand to pull himself out of his pants. His leg nudges your leg to open more as he swipes his cock through your used pussy. After a few swipes, Joel starts to push into you. You’re just wet enough for it to not hurt too bad but it feels so much more intense than last time. The stretch really burns as he continues to push into you. Pinned down on the ground, all you can do is take him. Having been completely occupied by Joel, you had temporarily forgotten about your audience. That’s when you notice a low hum of voices surrounding you. You break the kiss and look to the side and see masked people surrounding you two chanting something in a language you’ve never heard before. Next thing you know, they all get down on their knees, arms extended in front of them, bowing towards you and Joel.

“Eyes on me darlin. It’s okay, you’ll know soon enough what’s happening. It’s a good thing baby. Ffuck oh honey I love you so much. My sweet girl. M-my beautiful Queen, that’s it, take daddy’s cock nngh” Joel tells you as he grunts, bottoming out inside of you again and again.

You can’t help but to grunt as he continues to thrust deep in you. You’re barely able to comprehend anything that’s happened nor the fact you have an audience who also happen to be bowing down and chanting. You are well and throughly screwed.

~Fin~

A/n: I’ve had this idea for awhile, wrote some of it, had a creative slump and had a visit from the horny monster today and wa- la! I hope y’all enjoy this! I love you all and appreciate all the feedback!♥️♥️

Tagging some moots(: - @bonezone44 @multiversed-daydreamer @toxicanonymity @lumoverheaven @wannab-urs @neverwheremoonchild @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beefrobeefcal @josephquinnswhore @juletheghoul let me know if you want me to untag you!